Ten years later, what do we have?
by the romantic girl
Summary: Ten years later, Katey return to Cuba this time for Amnesty International. She is on a dangerous mission, as she well knows. She can't help thinking of Javier, if he still thinks of her and more importantly: is he still in love with her? And another question arises: do they have a future?
1. Chapter 1

T

Hey Friends! After months and months of undecision, I have finally decided to start again with the story. I told you that you needed to move with your lives and if you have and aren't interested anymore, it is fine. I write this for me as much as for you. You will find many changes, thanks to a very good constructive critic, and I hope there are less inaccuracies and plot holes. As English is not my first language, do not hesitate to comment. I try to read it but a writer is very subjective. Enjoy!

* * *

The trip home was long. Everyone was sad in their own way: my dad by being grave and silent and the rest of us by crying openly. We had mixed feeling about coming home. Coming home meant the end of our lovely vacation and the beginning of a new chapter in our lives.

Mr Phelps had left the country with his family too and taken his old place back, meaning my dad too. I was amazed by how fast my family forgot the Cuba life. I had my books, Susie her friends and mom her social circle. I was determined to get into Radcliffe and knew now more than ever that I wanted to make a difference in this world. I had seen it in Havana, how people used their words to make revolution even when disguised in singing. I got rewarded for my hard work, I did get in. My parents launched of course a huge party where all my friends were invited. I didn't enjoy it, hid myself in my room, reading Pride and Prejudice to avoid socializing with all the people outside. I was disgusted with my friends. They were the same as before, living like the world would grant every wish, which it probably would. The only difference was that I had changed. I had seen that there was a life beyond problems like wrong hair colour or a cheap dress. I missed my Havana life.

But then I moved to Radcliffe and started my life as undergraduate. One year after I started, the Radcliffe institute for advanced study was founded. This provided new opportunities for us girls. I was very happy there. I joined Amnesty International shortly after its creation. I really believed (like I do today) that the world needed to be more equal and just. My parents didn't see that with a good eye, they thought it better for me to focus on my studies which I ignored totally. Girls at Radcliffe wanted to get married, it didn't matter who, as long as he was rich and handsome. Going to university was to show that you could afford it, a pass time until you became somebody's wife. There were a few serious ones, which were my friends. I graduated year 1963, at the same time James Bond was at the theatres. I got a job at the local newspaper where I was the only girl. I was assigned the political column, which was unconventional since girls were not "interested" in politics. True, we got the right to vote over forty years ago but politics was men's business.

My boss believed in me like no one would have. I thanked him many times for the opportunity. I hid my signature because according to my boss, it was easier to get readers. In the beginning, I was so willing to keep my job that I agreed but understood after a while that it could not continue. I quit. My chef was angry but admitted that I was a good journalist. I remembered his words. "You are great; you can become even greater if you stay the same." I moved to New York, an outrageous move for my parents. They weren't sure that I would make it in the big city. New York was disappointing; I took a job as a waitress to pay the rent but fate was with me. Tom Wolfe came in one day and I had the audacity to throw a couple of my texts as well as my address in his bag.

One week later, my career as a waitress ended and my new life begun. I didn't need to disguise my name this time, everyone would know that Katey Miller wrote this. My life was finally beginning.

And here I am now, five years later. I am still part of Amnesty and I try to integrate it in my work as much as I can. I am happy with my life. I succeeded in escaping the married life. I heard from Susie that Eva had married Phelps. Susie is in college now, she is studying to become a nurse. I love my sister but I pity her because she could be so much more her but she is happy and so am I. Resuming life after Cuba was not easy but I feel now that I had been lucky. I have a career and am independent, which Eva is not because she have two kids already. James is the one with the money. I feel a little sorry for her nevertheless. No woman should endure life with James. At twenty-seven, I am the woman I wanted to be.


	2. Chapter 2

"You really are a lucky girl, you know."

My best friend, Elinor, was sitting on my sofa with a martini in one hand while she was gesturing with the other. "I mean, you don't have a husband that wants to have sex at three in the morning, do his laundry, look good at his parties and all that. You lead your own life. You have never spoken about the guys in your past. Was there really no one who made your little heart beat extra fast?"

"No, not really…"

"Not really? Come on girl, I notice that you get distracted sometimes, like you are thinking of someone…" Elinor's brown curls were moving back and forth when she shook her head. The green eyes were sparkling with delight. "I know that you must have had someone. You refuse every guy I present to you."

"That does not mean anything! I just don't like the guys here."

"Where should you find them? Cuba maybe? I hear they have good-looking sorts over there."

She must have remarked my raised eyebrows because she gasped. "That's it! You met a boy in Cuba! What have you not told me?"

I shrugged my shoulders and explained it all to her. It was useless to hide it now. I told her everything, from when I first came to Havana, till I met Javier and the dance contexts. I finished with our rushed leave from Cuba. In the end, she was weeping.

"That is so sad! It is like Romeo and Juliet, but none of you die!" Elinor is always dramatic. No wonder she is taking care of the love section! It was the part of the newspaper where women (and men, if they dared!) could write letters and get help in their "love problems". As a result, Elinor could crack up at anything that sounded least romantic or sad.

"Yeah well, we decided not to contact each other, it was better this way. He stayed there he belonged and I came back to my country. End of story."

"Do you never wonder what happened to him? I mean, what he became?" Elinor's eyes were wider than usual. She looked like a child

"No, not really…"

"And wait a minute, you danced? For real?" She leaned forward and scrutinized me from head to toe with a serious look.

"Yeah, I basically have it in my blood, my parents were dancers."

"How is Cuban dancing? Was he good?" She smiled mischievously and took another sip of her martini.

"It's sensational. He made me feel so…alive, free and sexy." I smiled despite myself because it was exactly like that, though I would not have admitted it at the time.

"Sexy, uh?"

"Yeah, but you would not like it, because you are such a prude."

"I could dance Cuban dance if I want to, if only my husband would agree. You know how he is."

I certainly did. Richard was my boss, a tall middle-aged man who still looked good, but was very correct about all things that made diversions away from interesting matters, like politics, economy or murder trials. Elinor had only got the job because she was married to him. She had convinced him that the paper needed something for women to read, to attract more readers. It worked obviously because the love section was one of the most read pages of the Times. Elinor had now several employees who worked under her, answering letters and weeping over the tragic lives.

"Whatever. It is not for you. You know for a seventeen-year-old this was the closest to sex you could come. It has all the symptoms: the pounding hearts, the sweat running down our backs, the close intimacy, the touch and the sensual music."

"It sounds wonderful, dear. But did you sleep with him?"

"Yes I did."

"Oh my god! How was he like? As good a lover as he was a dancer?"

"It was the first time for me. I didn't know if he was…anyway, it was sensational."

"He sounds amazing. You are sure you didn't contact him?"

"I actually tried. Once, I tried to write letters but they never got finished. It ended with that I gave it up. I thought sometime of going to Cuba to find him. But…" I looked at my hands, like it was their fault that I had not found the courage to write.

"But you must see him! Because otherwise you will be wondering for years what he become without doing actually anything to find out. You need to see him, maybe you'll get a second chance!"

"You know, I do actually think that you read too many love letters."

She stood up and placed the empty cocktail glass on the table. She walked to the door and placed her hand on the doorknob. She turned towards me and looked at me with conscious eyes.

"You know, I really believe that you must see him. Without that, you can't move on with your life honey. Call me when you are in Cuba.

"I'm twenty-seven years old. Was if he is married or even… dead?"

"At least you would know the truth." And with that, she left my apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Elinor knew me well. Days after, I was reflecting about what she had said. It is true that I have given Javier many thoughts along the years, especially around Christmas even though every method had been used to remove him from my head. A life with him was impossible. It could not be helped anyway, my thoughts amused themselves by imagining way to meet Javier again, the reason many pieces of paper have been sacrificed for unfinished letters. In the end, I gave up, partly because of the political situation but mainly because I wanted to forget. He must be married by now, he could not possibly be single after all these years? One thought have made me worry over the years that Javier has ended up in prison. Javier is a sensible man, he must know better than to end up in prison. These thoughts have comforted me over the years and now, I only think about him now and then as a nice memory, made worse now by Elinor.

What if I met him and he was not as I imagined? But then, I would know. I would maybe come home disappointed, but at least I would know. Elinor was right. It was the moment I had waited for. My profession would be very unwelcome in Cuba, considering the political situation. Maybe my boss could help me.

"Why in the hell do you want to go to Cuba?" Richard was sitting at his desk, his eyes inspecting me over his glasses. Richard was good-looking, depending on who you asked; I guess many women would call him average. In my eyes he looked good, his brown hair was maybe a little too greasy but his grey eyes were intense and very alert. He was quite skinny and had the pale look of someone spending too much time in an office.

"I have some unfinished business to take care off. I was thinking that it would be difficult for me to enter Cuba without a reason. Do you think you can give me something? Whatever deadline you set, I'll keep it."

"I hope you know how bad things are down there? Cuba had cut the ropes with us and would love to make an American "disappear", be it tourist or journalist." Richard poured himself the usual Midleton. Richard was a true New York citizen, but his ancestors were from Ireland. He didn't like the taste but he felt close to where he came from by drinking, which he did every day. It was not my job to lecture about the consequences of heavy drinking. Bye the way, the colour of it was the same as his hair today.

"I know but I am willing to take the risk. As you surely know, I am part of Amnesty."

"I know that. You think Amnesty will get you there safe because one or two were able to get out of there alive but maybe you won't be as lucky. And you are a woman, a gringa."

"What if I work under cover? I can pretend I am a Russian tourist who is interested in their prisons."

"Risky. If it fails, we would have the government on our back and I would dare to say that a third world war could be declared." He gestured toward the city behind him.

I had not thought about that. My daydream of just flying to Cuba and found Javier was a bit unrealistic.

"Risky but not impossible." I could not help smiling about the adventure. Me! A Russian tourist!

Richard looked at me with a small smile.

"You speak Russian?"

"No but I could learn. At least enough to get me through."

"If you are under cover, you would need a Russian interpreter and a Russian passport, but that is easy to make, but you would need to be _convincing_."

An impasse. What could be done?

"Unless," he continued, "you have a partner who can speak Russian and would translate everything for you. You would be his wife, who happens to be mute."

"Genius!" I wanted to jump up and down but restrained myself when I got a look from Richard.

"I hope you understand that it is extremely dangerous and if anything happens, you are on your own. Your husband is an architect who builds prisons and gulags for the government and you came with him. Cuba will welcome you with open arms.

"Who would be my husband anyway? Shouldn't I know who I am supposed to have married?"

"There is a man that works for the travel section, named Daniel who happens to speak Russian fluently. His mother comes from Russia."

"I have not seen him." I knew most of the guys from the travel section, since they had seen places I would never dream of going to but secretly want to which I force them to tell me about.

"Quite normal since he has been in St. Petersburg these two weeks. He is new, I just hired him. I had to since the Post was about to. Apparently he can speak five languages fluently. He looks good and takes nice photos. Perfect."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

He held up two fingers.

"Two days. Two to get passport, plane, hotel and guide. Then you can go. I will call you when everything is settled. You can go now."

"Thanks Richard. It is an opportunity to really help Amnesty in their work. They really need information about the prisons and I am sure it will the story of the year. A inside reportage about Cuba."

"Yeah, whatever."

He waved me off with one hand and I left his office in a state of happiness and determination. I walked by Elinor's office to tell the good news.

"What is it honey?" Elinor was sitting by her desk with nail polish in hand.

"I am doing it! I am going to Cuba!" She rose from her chair and come forward to hug me.

"Bravo! I am proud of you. I guess you can't phone or write me a letter from there so tell me when you come home, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

Richard was certainly effective. After two days, I had the plane ticket, a hotel reservation at a three stars hotel, a passport where it stood that I was Lara Karelina, twenty-six (nice, I felt already one year younger) and I had been acquainted with my husband, a stunning man of thirty with blond wavy hair and ocean blue eyes. He was 6'1 from head to toe and extremely nice. I told him that I was really pleased that I had married him, which made him throw his head back and laugh. I liked him already.

"So what is this story that you are going back to Cuba?"

I had to tell mom. You don't go on a life-threatening-start-of-WWIII mission without telling your mom.

"Mom. I am on an important mission. I am going to investigate Cuba's prisons, their condition and what could be done about it."

"Is that really all?"

Dear mother. She had been really glad that come home and regain "the life we were supposed to live" as she called it. Over the years she had presented many eligible men, hoping that I would get married to one of them. I have turned down all. Non man would accept my job and my liberty. I would become miss housewife and comfort myself with children while he had fun in someone else's bed. My mother was still hoping that I would change my mind.

"Yes, mother, it is all. I am very safe, I can assure you."

"I don't believe that at all. I don't want you to finish in those horrible prisons, you know?"

"I'll be fine I promise. I only need to shut my mouth and smile while Daniel does all the talking. I really need to pack now. I…"

"Who is Daniel?" Oh no. Dream on.

"My partner."

"Is he rich?"

"Mom, I can't really talk now, I have packing to do. I will stay in touch."

"But I…"

"Bye."

"Take care of you, okay?" I felt bad for her. She sounded really distressed. I am sure she wished I was more like Suzie now." I love you. Your father says you should visit the hotel and see how it is now."

"I will do that. Bye."

I inspected my packing. Many practical clothes. If I wanted to look like a Russian wife I would need more elegant clothing. I threw in more dresses and my Chanel suit, one of my proud possessions. I looked at my wardrobe and caught sight of a familiar dress. I took it out and the memories came back to me. It was the dress I had had on my last night at _La Rosa Negra_. I shook my head. I didn't need to remember it now. The images came back anyway and I caught myself throwing it in my bag. I didn't even know if it still fit me. Dancing was my past but strangely not for my parents. Actually, when Susie left for college, my parents started dancing again on their spare time. I guess they found that once priority number one was finished, they could think more of themselves. I was glad for them, dancing was my mother's passion. It was what had brought them together. My mother was dancing at the local country club when my father had seen her and immediately pushed her partner away. Mum said that his arrogant manner should have irritated her. Instead, she had smiled at him and they had been dancing all night long. I must have heard a thousand times over the years, much because I loved the story. Anyway, my bag was ready and I prepared myself to spend a sleepless night. Tomorrow, everything would be loose.


	4. Chapter 4

The flight was leaving at nine and I could barely get up from my bed at eight. The airport, a small private one outside of Brooklyn, was half an hour away and I was not in the near of ready. Richard called me and urged me to get going, "otherwise you will look quite stupid when the plane leaves without you" as he nicely put it. I put on full speed and fifteen minutes later, jumped in a cab to the airport.

The plane or the jet was small and very…clean. A flight attendant with that perfect hair I would never have welcomed me inside and I saw that Daniel had already made himself comfortable with a glass of wine. He smiled at me and patted at the large seat next to him.

"Hey Katey! Come, sit next to me. I suppose Richard had told you the peculiars?"

"Yes," said I while I sat down. "A car will be waiting for us and take us to the hotel where our guide will be."

"Correct." He smiled approvingly like a proud father. "What he didn't tell you is that the "guide" is a double agent. He is part of a group that want to end the Cold war and make Cuba cooperate with US again."

"Can we trust him? Not many Cubans would agree with him."

Daniel smiled approvingly again.

"That is true. They don't have any choice but to trust us, they know that if they do anything, they will have the CIA chasing them and the Cuban government, who are much worse than the American government. They have everything to gain by helping us."

"Good then."

"Don't worry sweetheart. Everything will work out fine. After all, I am only taking pictures and kissing asses. You are the one with the brain."

I have decided to like Daniel.

Havana radiated under the sunshine and I could not help smiling. I was back! It has only taken me ten years. Daniel and I watched how the city came closer and closer until we hit the ground and the only thing visible was a big building, larger than any building I had ever seen. The plane went slowly closer to it until it stopped completely and the flight attendant told us we could rise. She looked tired even though she was smiling and I felt bad, because Daniel and I had made fun of her perfect look. I gave her a smile I hoped looked apologetic and went outside to retrieve the rest of our bags. The warm and the sun hit me both like a wall and I was glad that I had remembered to bring my sunglasses. It was winter in New York but here in Cuba, it never went cold. A car was already waiting and the driver came out, in a shining uniform and carried our bags back to the car. Service!

We drove through the city and even if I was so tired that I could sleep standing, the city was as beautiful as I remembered. I must have fallen asleep because when Daniel caressed my arm, I managed to smash my head against the window. We had stopped and the driver opened the door. I stepped out with a terrible headache and looked around. We stood in front of a small white building, with blue windows and a big wooden door as entrance. Two men were standing in front of it, a tall large man with an impressive moustache who looked like he could be the hotel manager and a smaller one, with short brown hair and a nice tan face. The later radiated confidence and openness while the earlier was only correctness and pride. He was not a man to be messed with.

The man with the moustache introduced himself as Ernesto Vasquez and the hotel manager. He was very proud to have a Russian couple living in his hotel. It was clear since he pressed our hands with a firm handshake and a wide smile. I could swear he could have given us a hug if that was allowed. The man with the nice face presented himself as Andrés and would be our guide for our visit. He didn't look at all like a double agent but since I had never met one, I could not tell. A little boy, not older than thirteen perhaps, took our bags and brought them inside. I should have guessed there was child work. This was something I had to write on too. We were welcomed into a large reception with a chandelier. Ernesto showed us the restaurant, the "living room" I can assume from the book shelves and big sofas, another room with a large table and chairs, probably a conference room, before giving us the key to our room. We took it eagerly and walked up the stairs with suppressed hurry and when the room was found, walked in without stopping a pace and threw ourselves on the bed.

"I thought he would never finish!" Daniel laughed.

"Yes," agreed I. "Did you see that smile? Exactly like that Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland!"

"Hey Katey, look at our room!"

I looked.

It was quite small; our bed took up most of the space. A wooden desk was pushed against the windows and from our bed we could see the bathroom through a glass door (really?) on the left. The walls were painted in light blue and the windows had the ugliest curtains I had ever seen. They were green, but I would rather say colour vomit. It was odd to have this colour when the rest of the room matched so well although the bed was really soft though. I watched Daniel next to me who had his eyes closed and it hit me. There was only one bed! Of course!

"Don't worry sweetie. I can sleep on the floor. I am an experienced floor sleeper. Whatever that meant." Daniel must have read my thoughts. My horrified face made him laughed.

"Why are you complaining? You'll have the big bed."

"It's not a problem, really. You can sleep next to me." Why did I say it?

"Great! We could play games under the cover like when we were kids. It will be cosy. But now, I am starving. Should we get some food?"

Someone knocked at the door. Daniel jumped up to open. It was Andrés.

"You were very quick, I didn't have time to talk to you," said he in perfect English.

"Sorry," responded we in unison.

Andrés laughed.

"It doesn't matter. Do you want to discuss matters over lunch?"


	5. Chapter 5

Andrés took us to a small restaurant nearby. They were specialized in fish, like almost every restaurant in Havana. I took the sea bass and Daniel the tuna. Andrés explained that he had already told some of the prisons, who were eager to show us their prisons. Since there were more than fifty, we would not have time to see all before we were to leave, ten days from now, on the 27th of December. They were also some prisons out-of-town, which Andrés said were different from the city ones. I looked around at times while he spoke, to see if there was anyone who paid any attention to us but we were the only one in the room, the other were sitting outside. Andrés seemed confident, which lessened my fears a bit. Andrés explained that since Castro had taken over, things had only got worse. The people loved him, he was the one who had set them free but they didn't understand that they had less freedom than before. The recent crisis had not made matters easier. Andrés believed that once the Cold war ended, Cuba and USA might be friends again.

"Anyway, you have a prison visit tomorrow. If possible, you can visit two."

"You won't come with us then?"

"No, not tomorrow. Very few Cubans have been lucky to visit a prison, should we say, not imprisoned. They do not want the people to know. But thanks to my place, I have talked to a few about my "Russian friends", you. They gave me a pile of pesos for my silence. So yes, a visit or two might be possible."

Richard's words came back to me. You are on your own.

"But have you visited any?" I was curious.

Andrés turned to me and grinned.

"No. As I said, otherwise I would not have been here with you; you would have visited _me_ instead."

"Are you not afraid? I have heard they are quite horrible. You will see your people suffer." How could he be so relaxed? Perhaps was it denial. If you didn't think about it, it didn't exist.

"I have heard the rumours of course. The stories. If they are as bad as one is told, I will know. But I have also other priorities. Priorities that I cannot wait."

He rose from the chair and threw a few coins on the table.

"I will go with you back to the hotel. I have arranged for you to have a car at your disposal. The driver talks only Spanish but I…"

"…I can speak Spanish," interrupted Daniel.

What?

Andrés was as surprised as I was.

"Good then. You could have told me before. I can just give you the names of the prisons and everything will be arranged."

"But Andrés, how did you think we were going to understand what they say without interpreter? You are our guide!" Was it only I who had thought of that?

Andrés looked immediately guilty.

"Well I didn't. I am sorry. How selfish of me. But now that Daniel is a fluent Spanish speaker, he can interpret. The Cubans will love it. A Russian man who speaks their language. We should get going."

We walked back in silence. I started to think about the country club where I had danced with James and what had become of it.

Javier had been right. All the people employed at American companies had fled head over heels back home, leaving everything behind. The country club was probably just an empty building now.

Back at the hotel, I asked Andrés about it and he said that it was just a few streets away. Daniel proposed to go with me in the later afternoon since we were both very sleepy and would take a nap before our excursion. We said our goodbyes to Andrés and none of us speak on our way to the room, I think we both felt the importance of our presence, how much of it relied on ourselves. I felt at that moment that nothing was safe, the ground could at any moment disappear and I would fall deep, deep to never rise again. I hoped the feeling would be gone with a few hours of sleep.

We had both woken up at the same time. Daniel and I walked out of the hotel a bit dizzy, mainly of the sunlight, which shone right in our faces. The hotel was located perfectly for evening sun and I was hopeful to see some beautiful sunset later. We walked in the direction we had been told by Andrés and found ourselves, after a few minutes, in front of an open dark area. There were no street lamps here but the sunlight was bright enough for us to see that here was nothing left that reminded of dancing couples, colourful drinks and loud music. Everything must have been stolen or destroyed. There was nothing. Only the ceiling, majestic and symbol of the American arrogance cast a shadow of former glorified days.

"Wow. Is it where you used to hang out?" Daniel exclaimed.

"Yeah."

"Well, it's…Wait! There is something moving over there. Look!"

I watched the spot he pointed at. There was something moving, it looked like…a person! In fact, it seemed to be more than one. What were they doing here? We walked over the grey floor and the sun fell behind the ceiling, which made us see that the persons were walking with a bottle in hand. They were probably homeless and drunk. One of them turned their heads toward us and we froze.

"I have a very bad feeling about this. Can we go back?" Daniel took my hand and slowly walked backwards.

"I am sure we are out of danger. They are too far to do something drastic and probably very drunk. But if you want to go back, we shall."

The man was still looking at us when we walked back and I was thinking that if the people really thought their lives had really got better, they were living in an illusion. I wanted to shout that they needed to wake up, that they had just swapped a dictator for another but nobody would believe me. It was hopeless.

Back in our room, Daniel was silent. He took his cameras and started to fiddle with them and I took out Persuasion. None of us were really hungry that evening or even sleepy but I feel asleep in a flash.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I must say it was really good. If I thought that anyone would attack me here, I was wrong. People barely noticed me, except for momentary glances when they were bored. It was mostly local people that ate here; this was not a fancy restaurant but a small place for people to eat lunch. For a Saturday, it was less crowded that I thought it to be. I guess most people were out and working or enjoying the fine air. I really wanted to look professional but I had chosen a white silky shirt and Capri pants. It was better to sweat like a pig than to show my bare legs and attract trouble. Already now, my blond hair was not passed unnoticed. I got some stare from young men that were supposed to look at their partners. I was conscious that I was attractive, even when I approached my thirties. Would I have been a woman from one of Jane Austen's book, I would have been an old maid by now. I don't know which heroin I was, but I think that I was Elinor now. Looking back, I made the right choices when I decided to let go of Javier. But was it really the right choice? Here I was, 10 years later, looking for a man that I thought I had forgotten. At seventeen, I was Marianne. Sweet, romantic Marianne who thought everything was a dance on roses, true love could be find everywhere and young men were honest and good. Had I not been the same? I who wanted to make Javier leave his country and his family behind, for what? I realize now that it would never have worked. Make Carlos leave the country he had been fighting for? Make Javier's mother to come to America where she did not understand the language? And his brothers and sisters? No, it was stupid to think that. But was Cuba really better now when Castro led the country? The people loved him, even thought he ruled the country in the same way Batista had, with terror, repression and no freedom. But from what I have seen, people were satisfied with the regime. At least, it was what they appeared to be. They thought it better than to mess with authority. Rumours about the prisons were probably passed along people and nobody wanted to end up there. I remembered how Javier's dad had been killed, just by thinking.

I spend the rest of the afternoon walking around with a determined expression. It was better to appear that you know where you were going than to look uncertain. Andrés had provided me a map over Havana and I knew that I was not far from the hotel. I had marked out the house where Javier leaved when I left, the place where he worked after being fired from the hotel and La Rosa Negra. Havana had grown larger but not so much so I flattered myself that I knew where I was. I had to see the hotel where we had stayed during our short time at Cuba and the Palace. Both had been places where Americans could stay and amuse themselves but I was not sure that Americans were still staying there. Maybe Russians now, who knows? I don't when my head or heart decided to make me seek up Javier but in a moment's flash, my feet were walking, obviously eager to see Javier. I didn't need a map to lead me to his house. It was like my feet remembered the way by its own. I practiced on my speech on the way. It changed all the time because I didn't know how to explain why I was there, what I wanted…in short, it was all a mess. I was still resolute when I approached the gates. I hoped to see something that would convince me to flee and never come back. The entrance was empty, no sound could be heard, so perhaps they had moved after all? There was an old man sitting on an old chair next to the gates. It took me a moment to see that it was Abuelito, Javier and Carlos' grandpa.

"Is the family Suarez still living here?" I asked in Spanish, saying each word with a pause to make sure he understood.

"Si," he answered simply. I was not sure he knew me; because I had not seen him at Javier's house, or must has he looked at me the day I got lost in Havana. It was better not to ask too much.

"And Javier Suarez, does he live here?" I hold my breath.

"Si." I breathed out. I knew now that Javier still lived here, that he had not moved out or he was in prison. I had learned to observe people's reactions when saying things, so if something bad had happened to him, Abuelito's face would have gone pale. As this was not the case, I thanked every God for saving Javier from Cuban prison. Javier had believed in this new world, I guess he had adapted to it. He knew very well that one word could betray you.

"Abuelito, let's go to the…"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

This was a total shock to me. I did not expect to see him _so soon_. I didn't hear the gates creak, which should have alarmed me. He had put on a thin shirt, looking exactly the same as the one he used to wear. His style of clothing has actually not changed, his hair was the same as before, short, thick and that shiny mix of gold, brown and black. Those brown eyes and that straight nose, those attractive lips…oh god! I was drooling like a school girl. He had gained some muscles too, and probably not by dancing. He had grown to be like his brother, with this broad shoulders and that imposing look. He seemed to have grown (maybe it was me who had become shorter!) and I could really not recognize the boy I had loved if it was not for that handsome face. He was as shocked as I was. He could have been a cartoon figure. His jaw had dropped several inches and it looked like somebody had told him to freeze. Abuelito was looking at us curiously, with a tiny smile on his lips.

"Katey?" His voice was the same, that exotic voice with the Cuban accent when he talked English. Memories were coming back to me, each one were pushing each other to take place in my head. And I have to admit, I was really scared. I was like Anne Elliot in Persuasion. Except that I was not obliged to stay and be polite. I could flee. And this was the option I chose. I ran as fast as my legs could manage which swimming has made strong and resistant. I felt tears running down my cheeks, obscuring my view. Javier was calling my name behind me, several times. I didn't stop to check out but my race was stopped by something or rather someone. It was a man of the police, maybe the private police of Fidel Castro but he looked at me suspiciously. I thought he would arrest me or something. But to my great surprise, he asked me how I was. I said in Spanish that I was fine and I needed a taxi. Somebody gripped my arm and I screamed, terrified that it was another cop. But it was merely Javier, who said something to the man and the policeman nodded and walked away.

"Are you mad? Do you have no idea how dangerous it is to run around like that?" He had dropped his grip on my arm and looked at me with his fists on his hips. I was going to open my mouth to answer but he went on. "You are an American woman! Cuba is not safe anymore!"

"I am totally aware of my situation thank you," I said sharply. "I know more of your country's situation than you will ever know!" I remembered the prison from earlier today and I shivered. I really didn't need a lecture from Javier. This was my job, to learn facts and make them known to people. "Weren't you supposed to go somewhere? I need to go back to the hotel."

"It doesn't matter. I'll walk you home." I must say, my heart melted a little. "I walk you home" had made me feel safe before. It had been like Javier could protect me from everything if he walked me home. It has started when James had let his hands go loose and Javier took me home on the beach. But what should we talk about? Could ten years be resumed in one hour?

"Okay. I live at the Casa Blanca."

We walked in silence for a while. I was conscious of the smell that was only his, a touch of oregano and sunlight. Ridiculous I know but it is difficult to describe smells but easier to describe their effects. Memories were coming back; they were exploding in my head. I felt so tiny, next to this mountain that was Javier. I was surely no heavier than a feather for him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hum?" His voice had interrupted my thoughts; I could not stop myself from blushing because my memories had taken me to the dangerous ones. Despite everything, I was so glad that he was alive and well, not…dead. "I am…a journalist." I lowered my voice. "I am supposed to investigate the prisoners' condition in prisons here in Havana."

"Oh. Have you seen any so far?"

I could not tell if he was curious or simply polite. Like I said, rumours spread so he must had had his doubts of what happened there.

"Yes. One, this morning. I don't know what you know, but it was really horrible. I was scared that you…I mean that…" My voice broke. The emotion was too great to bear with.

"That I would be one of them? Don't worry Katey; I would not do that to my family."

"And your brother? Is he okay?"

At the mention of Carlos, Javier's face became grave. I wonder what Carlos could have done to provoke that kind of reaction in Javier. "Carlos believed so much in this new world that he left for Russia, I believe he is a spy now. He left his family manage on its own. I support the family now." We had been walking for over half an hour now and I started to recognize myself here. The hotel would be visible to us in ten minutes. I felt at this instant that this was not the only time we would meet. The glass had been broken; I think we could meet with civility at least.

"I am sorry Javier. I don't know what to say. What are you doing now?"

"I work at a factory not far from here. I get enough paid. At least, it keeps my sister from prostituting on the streets and my brother to work for the mafia."

"And your mother?"

"I am sorry to say that mama died two years ago. She was heartbroken when Carlos left us."

It would be stupid to apologize twice. Javier had matured greatly. Of course he would! He was a man with responsibilities and duties. Not a teenage boy who spend his free hours dancing with a teenage girl. And so had I! Matured, I mean. I could not say that I was the girl who thought that going to America solved all the problems. I have seen things during my journalist career and as member of Amnesty. We said nothing for the rest of our walk and when we were in front of my hotel, he was smiling a little.

"You know, the real dancers are still at La Rosa Negra, on Saturday nights."

"So?" I crossed my arms over my chest and he passed his hand trough his hair in embarrassment.

"Maybe we could go tonight?" He looked rather hopeful. I objected, more of security than anything else. My fear came right back up, when it had been suppressed by the cordial conversation. This was happening too fast.

"I am never set my feet there again!" And so, I ran up to my room, without bother to checking whether Javier was still standing there or not. All I needed now is to cry heavily and not stop.

Javier felt hopeless. For a moment, it had almost thought that things were like before. How could he believe for one second that she loved him still? He had never seized loving her, not for one second. He had tried to forget her, but she simply would not leave his heart. At first, he had believed that she would come back soon. But then it was the affair with the Cuban missiles with the Russians and everything with the American agents. Journalist! He was really afraid now. What if she got discovered? They would gladly throw her in those prisons she was visiting. His instinct of protection rushed over him and he wanted to run right back to that hotel and take her in his arms. He would love to feel the scent of her golden hair and that perfect body which made him weak. Her hair was shorter; it didn't go farther than above the shoulders. Did she not know how tempting she was? Those tight pants and that almost transparent shirt? He was twenty-eight now but still thought like a teenager. Now he would go home and cook food to his siblings before he went to La Casa Negra. What he had not tell Katey was that his sister worked there as a singer and that his brother played in the band. La Rosa Negra was maybe not the best place for young teenagers but at least he could watch over them. The club was not frequented by gangsters or the secret police, but local people who wanted to have fun. The Palace was now the place to be if you were important in Havana. He knew he was not supposed to but he would look for Katey the all night, because, she would perhaps change her mind in the course of the evening.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Now way that I went there again! My eyes were now empty of tears and I felt all numb, like all sorrow had been washed out. But then my conscience got over me and I felt ripped apart. On one side was the pros and the other side the cons. The pros for going to La Rosa Negra was that I would finally found out if I was over Javier plus it gave me an opportunity to dance again. The cons for going to La Rosa Negra was that if I was not over Javier (No, I was over. With. Him.) Then the evening promised to be dangerous for my self-control and what is some guy from the police or otherwise was there? My life would be in danger as well. Just great. I needed a shower first. I had forgotten how warm it was and a cold shower would set my body temperature all right. Now the shower was so small that I could hardly turn around inside. My shoulders were almost touching the walls if I moved a bit. After a very tricky session, I changed into a red blouse and white Capri pants. Like I said, the streets were too dangerous to show my bare legs. I was not afraid but it wasn't necessary to attract unwise attention.

I ate a bit food and went to my room to think. I was torn between two organs: the heart and the brain. My brain told me it was unwise to be at La Rosa Negra tonight because of the risk that my cover will be revealed. And my brain wanted to insist that I would certainly be seen at the club and people would recognize me if I started to interrogate people about their knowledge of the prisons. But my heart said that maybe I would be happier if I went tonight because I would get the chance to dance again, to see Javier also. Dancing is what had brought us together, had been a way to connect us. Dancing had been our way of talking, of showing that we loved each other. No wonder I stopped dancing. Dancing alone or with another man was to show that I didn't love Javier anymore. Was that true though? Anne Elliot had been questioning her love as well. Was it that Anne and I had more things in common that we thought. Our families had forced to end the relationship when we were younger and we had met being much older and so much more different than we used to be. It was almost terrifying. This made me remember one conversation I had with my mother before we stopped talking to each other. I had been sobbing and crying in my room when she burst in without knocking.

"Can't you stop? The only thing we have been hearing from you since we came home is your sobbing! Don't you know that you have a future to think about?"

"Mum! I have been separated from the boy I love. I have the right to cry!"

"No you don't! Teenage crush are always difficult when one is young. You will get over it!"

"No I won't. It feels like my life is over!"

"You listen to me! You are an American girl, starting soon your new life at college and he is going to stay in Cuba and make his way in the world. You don't belong in the same world."

It was after that line that I had screamed cruel things at her and she had left the room. For my mother this was a class issue but for me, it was more if our lives were compatible. The night had fallen on Havana and I feared of what could be hiding out there in the dark. My brain and my heart were still combating in the ring and it seemed like my heart was winning. Finally, my brain gave way and I decided to call for Andrés, who knew the city better than I did.

Andrés was delighted with the idea. He was soon here and we drove through the city.

"I didn't know that you knew La Rosa Negra, Señorita?"

"Si, it is a place I know well. Is Raoul and Esmeralda still king and queen of la Rosa Negra?"

"No. I believe something happened to them. One night they were dancing at the club and the next day they were never seen by anyone alive. Rumours say they ran into drug dealers that didn't leave them a chance to escape."

I felt really sad for them, they had been nice to me and last time I saw them was on the dance floor. I would always remember them as such, full of life and dancing sensually to the rhythm of the music.

"We are here, Miss." I felt my chest swell with anticipation, in a few moments I would be walking in the last Cuban place I was before I went home. Andrés escorted me inside with a friendly hand under my elbow. In a short time, I had become quite fond of Andrés. We obviously shared the terrible experience at the prison today but he had told me it was a risk these days to know English. You might be an American spy for example. About La Rosa Negra. We walked into the café that always was crowded during the day and into the room that served as a club at night. The club had not changed, the walls were still exotic red and the lamps spread out a cosy light that made the room feel strange and familiar at the same time. Everything was the same from the odour of sweat and body warmth to the scent of exotic spies and different perfumes. And of course, the dancing people, glued to each other while moving erotically their body in rhythm. This sort of dancing could not be described, but could only be felt in heart and soul.

"You want to dance, Señorita?"

"Not now, Andrés but I gladly enjoy one later. Right now I need a drink." Andrés was not offended by my refusal but went to mix with the dancing crowd, probably to find a free partner. I had my reasons to refuse, other than I had mentioned to him, but it was true that I really needed a drink. I went to the bar and ordered a Cuba Libre, a specialty around here. I spotted a table at a corner and sat down. From here, I had the entire club in view with the dancing couples at my right shoulder. My back was facing the door, so I could not see who was coming in or out which made me uncomfortable so I moved to another table where I could see it. The music was really good tonight and I really wanted to join the dancing couples. I located Andrés, who was dancing with a petite brunette. From what I saw, Andrés was a good dancer. He had the sensuality and the feeling for dancing. I sipped on my drink and tried to see if _he_ was here. The song ended and was soon replaced by another. The singer was a young girl, with brown curls and a sweet face. She had a smooth voice, which was perfect for this kind of music. Maybe he would not come. Just because I refused. No, it was quite impossible unless he had become so serious that he had stopped dancing. The drink was less delicious than I thought, perhaps because it contained Cola, beverage that I didn't really enjoy back in the states. The song ended and Andrés made himself free from the sweet woman he had been dancing with and came forward to me with a smile on his face.

"How about now Miss, is it too soon?"

"Not at all, I would gladly dance now." I let him take my hand and we moved our way between the dancing bodies. He placed his hands on my hips and mine behind his neck and we started moving our bodies. I had been afraid that I would forget "to feel the music" but my body seemed to remember everything and I started to enjoy. Andrés was skilled and I was soon sweating, which made my light skin only sparkle more in the light. I moved everything: hips, chest, arms, and legs. I had become an undulating form that moved with Andrés's form in harmony. I felt something else also. It was a bit of excitement, I could not help myself but feel sexually aroused by the music, Andrés's body against mine and the room's shimmering glow. Only it was not as strong as I felt with Javier, but it was there, warm and sparkling like a fire. Andrés made no bad moves; I would have remarked the difference. No, he was simply enjoying the joy of a good dance partner. Speaking of Javier…yes. He was staring at us or at me with a hard-read expression on his face. The song ended and I signalled to Andrés that I wanted to stop. He nodded and helped me out of the sea of moving people. Javier took the opportunity to take a step forward and we were standing in front of each other. I introduced Andrés to Javier.

"Javier, this is…

"- I know who he is," interrupted he. "Buenos noches Andrés."

"Hola! I am Miss Miller's interpreter and driver for now."

"He is helping me with you-know-what, inserted I."

"I see."

And with that line, he left us to mix with the dancing ladies. Andrés seemed confused when he looked at me.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Why?"

"He had never been so rude to me. He always asks after my family when I come by the club."

This time, it was my turn to be surprised. "You know each other?"

"Yeah. I am not always a driver, you know?" He smiled good-humouredly and I hoped he could not see I was blushing. "I work in the same factory as he does. But not in the same section. But how do you know him?"

I blushed for the second time. I had not mentioned our relationship when I said I had been in Cuba. I wondered how to best tell Andrés without having to say too much. "We got to know each other when I lived at a hotel with my family. He worked there."

Andrés said nothing more and I thanked him silently for what. I needed to reflect about Javier's odd behaviour toward Andrés and toward me. Was it jealousy? I did not know how long he had been standing there and looking at Andrés and me dancing.

"You know what Andrés? I think it is me he is angry at."

"You? What have you done that could make Javier angry? He is never angry except when his sister tries to go home with a young man."

"His sister?" Could he mean that little girl I had seen at Javier's house ten years ago? She seemed to have been four or five at the time, maybe more. She must be more than fifteen years old today.

"Yes. She is the one singing on stage right now. Everybody admires her voice. And her brother is playing the guitar. The entire family must have music in their bodies."

I looked more attentively at the musicians on stage. The dancers usually steal the show but I could see that several people were simply enjoying the music. The girl, whom I clearly recognized as Javier's sister, was pretty and seemed to be moving all the time. She clapped in her hands, dancing, twirling, and full of energy and life. She looked very happy even thought it could not have been easy to lose her mother at such an early age. The guy playing the guitar, Javier's brother had grown considerably and seemed taller than I was. He would certainly grow to be even taller and handsomer than he already was. The Suarez family had good genes (there was probably not a gene called "beauty gene"). I have not understood until now that I needed to be angry. He had been awfully rude to a friend just because I had danced with him. But when my anger came, it exploded. I left Andrés without a word of goodbye and went directly to the dancing Javier. I slammed a guy on the hand because he dared to grab my hips. I am sure he went well but I was so angry that I could not think of something else. The guy looked hurt and put his hand on someone else's hips instead. I knocked Javier on the shoulder and he turned his eyes from his dance partner toward me.

"You and I need to talk. Now."

"No. I don't need any of your explanations." He set his focus back on the lady and I waved my hand in front of his face to attract his attention.

"Come with me. NOW." I must have looked like a stubborn kid because my foot was tapping the floor in anger and I had my arms crossed on my chest.

"The music is not finished."

"Fine. Have it your way." I left him alone, no, not alone but with his charming dance partner. I had enough. If Javier didn't want to talk to me then fine. I searched for Andrés in the room and I found him next to the bar.

"Take me home, please."

"Already? Why?"

"I don't want to explain. When is Daniel supposed to come tomorrow?"

"He is coming in the morning. He will stay at your hotel. Perhaps we can eat breakfast?"

"Seems okay to me. Now take me home." Andrés nodded and we left the club. The air was still quite warm and I just felt all the excitements and emotions coming all at once, making me feel more tired than I already was. The reception had closed but the door was opened. I thanked Andrés and went directly to my room. It was delicious to dig into my sheets and enjoy the nice feeling of lying down after a long day. I was still angry at Javier and hoped he had learned that it had been unwise to say no to me. I would certainly not talk to him until he made the first step. I was not the one to apologize. I had just been dancing. I fell into sleep, with dreams full of red flamencos and crying dogs.

Javier was boiling of anger. How could that frog thing he had the right to touch his woman? He mentally slapped himself. Katey was not somebody's woman but he could not help to feel jealous. Dancing was their thing, their…link. What would he have been without Katey? He had been angry at her when he got fired, she was no to be trusted, just a stupid American girl. He had accepted to participate to the dance context, for the money and perhaps to get to know her better too. He had kissed her for the first time at the dance context; they had made love on New Year's Day. She had spun a string around them, making him blind for another woman. He needed to make her look at him, and not with a look of contempt. He would apologize tomorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I felt as fresh as a daisy when I woke up and I was excited to see how this Daniel would look like. I said hello to everyone who crossed my path and went into the canteen. I discovered that Andrés was already here with a man who had his back turned on me. I guessed it must be Daniel. I went forward and Andrés saw me and stood up to greet me. This Daniel finally turned toward me and greeted me with a smile. We shook hands and sat down at our table. Daniel was a very handsome man, with brown thick hair and clear blue eyes. He had elegant glasses on his noise and a camera was hanging on his chest. He was not as muscular as Javier but looked impressive enough. We ordered our breakfast and Daniel looked intensively at me, liked he wanted to find some faults. I had been used to glances like that and waited patiently for him to finish.

"You like what you see?" I asked finally.

"You would make an incredible model. Those decided eyes, that stubborn mouth, that noble nose, oh yes a perfect model in my eyes."

"You photograph models?" I was pleased by the compliment. At least, it I thought it was. Whatever it was, I felt at that instant the power of femininity, as I believe many women of the past must have felt when somebody called them beautiful. I placed no real attachment to my appearance even thought it was necessary since my appearance was the image of my work. But Daniel was trained to capture the beauty in things and so I had to trust him for knowing what he talked about.

"From time to time. It is well paid and you get to meet a lot of people."

"Oh so you are a ladies 'man?"

"Not quite. I found that ladies are not my style if you see what I mean."

"Oh. OH. I see. Is there someone in your life?"

"Yeah, he is living in San Francisco. It is a better for us there, you know?"

I knew what he meant. San Francisco stood for homosexual freedom.

"I know what you mean."

Andrés looked at us with an amused look.

"I'm glad you like each other. We have work to do. Now I have pulled my strings and we might be able to visit another one today. But we must be vigilant because if they learn that we have a photographer with us, they can start a diplomatic conflict. So I have a plan."

He explained the plan thoroughly and we listened attentively. Everything was agreed on and we were on our way. This time I was not alone and it was no discomfort to talk to Andrés anymore. Besides, we had Daniel now and he was a welcome introduction to our party. I didn't know if I had to explain to Daniel what he would see but he reassured on that point. He was apparently confident and certain of being capable to be sensible at such a place like a prison. The procedure was the same as yesterday but the director's attentions were more focused on Daniel now. I guessed that a woman did not understand certain subjects as well as men. I frowned but I hoped that our plan was going to work. We had decided that when I distracted the director and his guards, Daniel would discretely take pictures with his camera. The pictures would of course never published publicly but used among Amnesty members to get a clear picture of the situation. I felt the heavy responsibilities upon me and sighed. If this did not work out, they probably send me to one of these prisons for being an American spy. We were introduced and moved around the cells. This time it was no problem to see "the bad parts". Daniel was a man after all. But I could not stop from feeling that we ought to be on our guards. Daniel acted very professionally, like he really knew what he was talking about. Andrés was next to him, translating everything Daniel said. I was walking behind with the two guards behind. It would not be easy to divert them but I was confident. My confidence was replaced by shock and horror. The cells were as small and dirty as the other prison. I could not help but look at the prisoners without shame. Some were really young, perhaps younger than I was, and some were really old, like Abuelito. Everyone looked as they expected us to see them like animals in cage but I really wanted, was to unlock all the doors and free them. It was so sad that I felt tears coming in my eyes. I forbid myself to cry and waited for the signal Andrés would give me any second now. No live torture this time but the director wanted to show us the isolation cell, which as vacant by the moment. Andrés gave me a glance and I went to action.

In a moment, I pretended to trip over a guard so that his attention was on me. The director was alarmed and asked me in Spanish if I was okay. Andrés moved so that the other's guard could not see Daniel. The latter took the opportunity to shoot the isolation cell. We had decided that it was disrespectful to take pictures of the prisoner but that Amnesty had to rely on our visual observances to get the truth. Daniel had his shot and in a few minutes, everything was back to normal and we went on. We approached the end of the visit and it felt like I had been in a zoo from hell. It was terrible and immoral. How could they imprison so much people for wanting to be free and happy? Had they no value for honesty, love or democracy? The world was a messed up place and I was ashamed to live in it. But I had to believe, like Javier had said about his Cuba that things would work out. That what I did right now was noble. But who was I fooling? Myself or the American people? What could I possibly say to New Yorkers that the Cuban people were not enemies but only victims of their own naivety? Nobody here wanted to blow anyone up, they just wanted to live! So many questions were in my head when I shook hands with the director. I promised myself again to wash my hand a dozen times. The ride home was very silent. Daniel looked less confident that he had been before; I believe he had not expected this. Nobody could.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Andrés was very glad to leave us so that he could find comfort elsewhere. I wonder if he had a wife and kids somewhere. I had to ask him sometimes. I decided to give Daniel some space and I went to my room to write everything down. I was as detailed as the first time and I believe I had not forgotten anything. I was not hungry so I decided to spend my time until I was with reading. I know that I should have travelled lightly but I could not resist taking a Jane Austen book. I eyed the title. Among the six complete books, I had taken _Persuasion_, _Emma_ and _Mansfield Park_. It was a difficult decision. _Persuasion_ was out of question, it would only tell me what I already knew._ Emma_ was a story about being blind and self-confident so _Mansfield Park_ fit just right. Fanny was patient and really nice. She was over-looked by so many and everyone knew what was best for her just because she was poor. After a while, when Fanny had met Henry Crawford, I felt my stomach cry for help. I laid the book aside and went down.

The canteen was quite empty and I perceived Daniel sitting at a table, looking very miserable. Chatting would probably cheer him up. I sat down in front of me and he emerged from his trance to smile at me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I don't know really. I just feel empty right now." He gave me a half smile and I gave my order to the waiter who had been standing near our table to wait for my decision.

"I understand what you mean. I felt the same yesterday. But then I had no one to comfort me. Let's talk. You will feel better then."

"How can you know that you will feel better? I just feel that nothing I do will help them, that I am wrong to sit here and eat when they are starving to death."

"You have to believe it will get better. You are doing something great. With your pictures, you will say what thousands words can't say. I can write an article and make people to live the scene in their heads. But an image just prints itself in the conscience. It brings more emotions than a very good report. You are a good person Daniel." I put my hand on his and pressed it lightly. He actually looked a bit better, smiled with all his teeth visible and gestured with his hands to imitate the director of the prison. I laughed heartily and we had an agreeable hour. A man walked to our table and announced that I had a message at the reception. I waved at Daniel and followed the man to the reception.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was almost like I had expected it. At the reception, a man was leaning against the counter whom I could recognize to be only Javier. Of course. I walked forward in determination not to get angry or to lose my temper. I would listen to everything he had to say.

"Hello Katey," said he with confidence. "You look nice." If he referred to the only dress I had brought with me then I guess I could be called nice. This was the fashion last year but I found appropriate here. And believe me, I was not one of those who followed fashion.

"Thank you. What was it that you wanted?" From the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel who gave Javier and me an amused glance before he went upstairs. I would probably be questioned about the mysterious Cuban man later. Javier made a move like he wanted to put a hand on my arm but controlled himself and let the hand drop next to his side.

"I just wanted to say I am sorry. It was wrong of me to behave like I did yesterday."

"Apologies accepted. But it is really not me who you should be apologizing for, but Andrés. He is the one who suffered."

"I have already done that." He looked away, a bit insecure perhaps on what to say next. I helped him on.

"Just because you are jealous does not mean you should let other suffer for what you cannot stand," I preached. He reacted immediately.

"I was not jealous!"

"Yes you were! You could not stand to see me dance with another person than you! Admit it!" He went silent and became thoughtful for a moment.

"Yes I was. Jealous, I mean. I thought that dancing had been our private thing that we shared together." I blushed. He was true. Dancing had been everything to us, our "thing" as Javier called it. We were embarrassed for a while and did not know what to say next. I finally decided to speak, even though what I was going to say next would maybe get rejected. I could not believe I was going to say it.

"Can I…can I meet your brother and sister? Are they home?"

He looked surprised for a moment and then smiled next and nodded.

"You can meet them. I think they are at home but I am not sure. Shall we go?"

He offered me his arm but I hesitated and he let it drop. I tend to get memories when I touched objects, undoubtedly touching Javier's arm, would be a danger for my self-control.

At that moment, I didn't think of how stupid that question had been. I should have known better but it was too late now, it was already out there. I had to be strong, to meet him as a friend for the moment.

"How come your English had become so much better?" I felt the warm air on my face when we got out; the nice and chill breeze was caressing mine and Javier's hair.

"I asked Andrés if he could teach me some," replied he smiling. "If you can remark the difference then I guess I must have improved."

"It can't be easy to know so much English. I saw that Andrés got sceptic glances from the prison director this morning when he translated to us the words in Spanish."

"Us?" inquired Javier, not being aware of the addition in our party.

"Daniel and me. Daniel came this morning. He is here to take pictures but it is dangerous so we are doing it illegally. Don't worry; he is no danger to me because he is gay."

"Gay?" asked he with lines on his forehead. I found it funny that he reacted on the word gay rather than I was involved with something illegal. His expression was hilarious too, he looked like he was trying to appear experienced but could not hide his ignorance beneath that face of wonder.

"Yes, gay. Homosexual. A man who likes other men. You never heard this word before?"

"I don't think we have gay people in Cuba." I laughed heartily. Could he really be so naïve?

"That is what you think it's true. But there are probably gay people everywhere here in Havana except that they don't make such a noise of themselves. It is dangerous to be different even in America."

"Do you have problems in America?" He looked concern, perhaps believing that I had problems.

"If you mean you like me personally, no I don't have any problems but America have problems like all the others countries, but not of the same kind perhaps. People don't like different people; they think they are trouble without trying to look beyond."

"We don't have that here. People are just trying to find food for the day and avoid prison. But tell me about your life in America." By the way, we had been walking for a while and I didn't know how much it was left of out walk but I was not worried. Javier and I had become more civil to each other, something of that friendship we had in the beginning of our acquaintance was active again. I was less tense but still on my guard, it was early yet.

"What can I say? College was interesting and I moved to New York to become the successful journalist I wanted to be. Now I am of course, but it took time and strong will. I am writing the politic column you see and people don't generally see it fit for a woman. But I have a nice boss who encourages me to do my best and I believe that many readers like to have a woman's opinion on politics."

He looked at me with eager interest. "That is good. You can make a difference in your country, to change people's beliefs and open their eyes. More than I can ever do here." I wondered whether he had forgotten mine and his own words that he helped his family, and this was the most important thing in the world.

"I hoped you have not forgotten that your family is your duty and your responsibility. I can change people's mind and beliefs about one topic, but that is only if they want to change it. They are not dependent on me to make up their opinions; they may as well read another newspaper. But your siblings count on you and without you, they would be destitute. You are noble in your own little business and as long as you stay out of trouble, you may be sure that they will as well for your sake." I breathed for air after this long speech because they had come from the heart and I could not have stopped these words from coming out of my mouth. Javier looked amazed and amused. I could not bring myself to speak again because I waited for his reaction.

"How could we change so much Katey? We are not the teenagers that danced all day long for that useless context!"

"Ten years is a long time for change, I would not want to be that naïve, innocent Katey now that I know so much of the world. Are we not there yet?"

Indeed we were. The house looked the same as the day before but now, I had the pleasure to enter the house. Javier entered first and I followed trough the familiar home, trough the small courtyard and the main hall. Javier's house was not big but it was complicated. There weren't really any doors so from the hall you could see the kitchen and the "dining-room" only separated by a small wall. To the right, there was the corridor with the staircase, leading to the bedrooms. To the left, you had the "living room" or the "sala de estar" as they call it and the small bathroom. The Suarez family could say that they had a bathroom indoors, which many could not be said by many. The water here was so bad that they had to boil it before they could use it for anything. Many had died from dirty water in diseases and this was one of the many causes charity organisations tried to ameliorate but it was difficult. They had a few bedrooms, I know that Shabe, Javier's little sister and Raphael had been obliged to occupy the same room and Javier and Carlos too.

Speaking of siblings, Shabe and Raphael had been occupying their bedroom and were coming down to great their big brother. They were hugged and kissed by Javier, a scene which showed great brotherly affection. Finally, they turned to me and observed me with wide eyes. From a closer look, Shabe was even prettier than she had been at the club and her mild eyes were curious. Raphael had the look of a boy who had grown really fast and probably would grow even more. It was nearly as tall as Javier but I had no doubt he would turn out to be a handsome man in ten years or so. Both siblings were gracious and healthy. Shabe had forms women would have died for in America ten years ago. Definitively good genes there.

"Shabe, Raphael, you remember Katey?" asked Javier in English. He was standing quite far from me, so close to his siblings that I felt like I was a ghost they were inspecting from a distance. I wondered why they had not move forward to greet me but maybe it was best that I was the one who should make the first move.

"Hi, I'm Katey. You probably don't remember me, you were quite young then." I offered my hand and they shook it with a firm grip. It was Shabe who talked first.

"Javier was always absent to see you. My mother did not like it so much." I blushed and so did Javier. Raphael said something in Spanish and Javier translated it for me.

"Raphael says you look like a fine lady." I smiled at Raphael and thanked him in Spanish for the nice compliment.

"You have a fine voice Shabe. When did you start singing?"

She counted silently on her fingers and smiled at me. "Ten years. My mother used to sing when she cooked. She taught me a few songs. Her own mother used to be a good singer."

"How can you know so much English?"

"I listened to Andrés when he was here to teach Javier. Do you want to see my room?"

She took my hand and we went upstairs. Now that the house sadly lacked of several family members, Raphael and Shabe had their own rooms and one room was vacant. Shabe told me that it was their parents' bedroom; no one had dared to empty it. Abuelito had his room and Javier occupied the room that had served as his father's office. Shabe's room was pretty, it had been repainted in a mild pink tone and a few dolls were smiling at me from the bed. Shabe had been showing me with a teenager's enthusiasm but went suddenly very serious.

"Listen Katey, I know that you were lovers before, I was young but not blind and my brother loves you still. Don't hurt him a second time. He thinks I do not see it but sometimes he likes to forget his sorrow in alcohol. Just take care of him, okay?" She looked really anxious but really serious, like a little sister did when a brother was in trouble.

I was pretty surprised. I did not expect this confession and was not sure if I could answer with the same franchise.

"I will do the best I can." She seemed satisfied with the answer and nodded. Her face bloomed up in to a smile; her face looked younger than I am sure she wanted to appear. "How old are you Shabe?"

"I am sixteen. Would you want to stay for dinner Katey? I smell that my brother is cooking something."

"Is it so late?" I looked at my watch; the time announced was six in the evening. Time has once again mysteriously flown so that my sense of control was totally vanished. "I must go back to the hotel! Daniel must be worried for me!"

"Daniel? Is that your husband?" She looked at me with true suspicion, a bit disgusted too I think.

"No! He is my colleague. Don't worry; he is not attracted by me."

"Why not?" I chuckled nervously. It was one thing to explain to Javier that there were homosexuals in this world, but to a teenager? I decided to pick a straightforward answer.

"Daniel likes men. Girls are not his type. Everyone is not made to be like boy and girl."

She laughed. This was not exactly the response I had expected. She laughed heartily for a while and gradually stopped, but she kept a playful smile on her lips. "I know that there are men who like men in this world. Did you notice the guy who played the maracas at La Rosa Negra? Probably not. But he has a tendency to stare at the guys who are dancing there. He doesn't know that I know this but I think that my brother is leaning to that side as well. I have seen some stolen glances between the guy at the maracas and him. Don't tell Javier, Raphael would kill if he discovered that I told you this."

"The secret is safe with me. It smells good here. What is he cooking?" We sniffed the air and I felt the hunger coming on me.

"I believe it is "pollo con arroz", chicken with rice. He makes it with mango and oranges. It's his speciality. You should really stay for dinner. It is not often we have guests. Come. Let's go downstairs." I said to Shabe that I would be downstairs in a few minutes and she nodded. I was left alone in her room, which allowed me to think.

I didn't know if it was safe that I would leave at this time of day. It was really tempting to stay and eat dinner with Javier, Shabe and Raphael. I knew very well that the secret police was out there and I would probably look very suspicious to them. I regretted a little, just a little, that I had come with Javier here. I didn't know if they had a phone and Andrés would probably be very mad if he found that I was here. He would be very surprised first but his main reaction would be anger. What I feared the very most was my own neutrality. It was stupid to be here, I didn't even need to be here. I had made the decision on coming here that I was going to see what Javier became and then move on with my life. Then why was I so afraid? I was frustrated and angry at myself because of all the questions in my mind but my stomach reminded me that it needed food so I went downstairs, convinced that I would find answers soon enough.

The smell was greater as I went down and it was weird to see Javier standing at the stove, smiling for himself in front of the boiling stew. When he heard my steps, he turned to me still smiling and asked if I wanted to taste it. Javier gesticulated to me to come. I tasted it and felt a shock in my mouth. Everything came at once, the spicy and the sweet, and I felt like I had never tasted anything better.

"This is delicious! Where did you learn that?"

He smiled broadly.

"By my own. It took me time but this one is my favourite. That means you stay for dinner then?"

"Yes, for sure! I would not want to miss this for the world!" I felt at that moment that everything would be fine and I was secure.

"Good. This is not finished yet so if you want, you can occupy yourself for half an hour. I will call when it is ready." He smiled at me and touched my shoulder lightly. I shivered from the touch and he drew back his hand. We blushed in embarrassment and I turned away to see the rest of the house, hoping that my cheeks would get cooler. If a simple touch could bring out of my senses, then what could a kiss do? Safe and secure. Nothing would happen without my permission. I decided to go upstairs again, to see Raphael this time. We would maybe have problems communicating, but I am sure we would understand each other anyway.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Raphael was sitting on his bed, in a room full of papers everywhere. It seemed to be lyrics, probably written by him. He was playing guitar and did not notice me until I stood near him. He was scared, at the point that he almost dropped his guitar.

"Do not...afraid me!" I raised my hands in front of me, to indicate that I meant no harm.

"I did not mean to scare you. Sorry for intruding like that."

He shook his head and looked back at me with a small smile on his lips.

"It okay. I disappear playing this." His English was obviously very limited but I understood him well enough. Music was his way of evading from the real world; he was an artist in heart and soul.

"Do you want to play for me? Maybe one of your compositions?" I picked up a sheet of paper and looked at it. It was all in Spanish of course but Raphael tore it from my hands.

"No! Private!" He looked at me with anxiety, like he expected me to laugh at him.

"I don't want to laugh at you! I think you are a talented artist. I would really want to hear your voice."

After a lot of convincing, he finally agreed to play for me. He had a nice voice, very deep and enjoyable. Shabe walked by and joined in the song. They knew exactly how to improve each other and had a real talent for duets. At the end of the song, I clapped in my hands and Raphael blushed deeply. Shabe was on the other side very pleased and she had an affective hand on her brother's shoulder.

"He is very talented. Many don't know, but the songs we play at La Rosa Negra are his compositions. Even the other band members don't know because Raphael likes to keep it quiet but I hope he will find the courage to make himself known." Raphael smiled at her with affection and put his hand on hers. I was touched by this scene and was hesitant to interrupt it. Luckily, Shabe stopped me from doing it.

"Katey, do you want to see my parents' bedroom?"

I felt hesitant. "Is it wise?"

"Don't worry. I would be glad if you wanted to see it. Take a look, it is the door to the right." I nodded and went to the door she had indicated. Alma's bedroom was…beautiful, in lack of others words. The walls were in a red tone, like the kitchen downstairs. A huge bed was the biggest furniture here, and almost the only. There was a small makeup table with mirror and everything. On the left side of the bed, there was a chest of drawers, which probably served as wardrobe, with pictures on it. There were a few but important ones. There was a wedding photo of Alma and her husband, and I could find the likeness between Javier, Carlos, Raphael and their father. Each brother had a characteristic of him but it was Javier who liked the most like his father. The shape of the face and the mouth were the same. On another photo, one could see two boys playing with maracas. I assumed it was Carlos and Javier. To see Javier as a boy was something. He had nothing of the serious traits that could be found on his face now, but the innocent and childish features of a happy child. It must have been a happy moment of their lives, carefree and no idea of what the future awaited them.

I sat down on the bed and fell back on the cushions. So far so good. I would stay for dinner and then maybe go home if they had a phone so I could call Andrés. If they didn't…God knows what I would do. I could not sleep here, not when I knew Javier was not far away. We were maybe friends now but I was not sure he wanted to stay that way. For my part, I had taken Javier with me in my heart to America but he had gradually faded because of my absolute conviction that I would find a nice American guy to marry with. People expected girls to marry and to take care of their kids. I had believed it too. In New York, I had had a few relationships with men, they had not last more than a few months but I had tried. Susie I know had met a guy she liked, she told me of it a few weeks ago.

"Katey!" she cried, "I am in love!"

"Oh, with who?"

"I met him trough my history class. I think he likes me." She had behaved like she did when she was extremely happy, jumping from place to place and laughing heartily at anything.

"Okay, but don't marry him unless you are completely sure that you know it is him you want. And keep your independence; don't let him make you a slave by making you stay at home. You know that you have the choice of controlling the number of kids you want to have."

"Yeah, yeah. I promise. How is _your_ love life going?"

I didn't answer her question but started to think of it afterwards. Several guys had been so in love that they had proposed to me after two months. I had declined and after that, they had never called me back. It was like they had not loved me, but the image I bring to their mind. The loving, careful and adorable wife. What was I doing here then? And what happened if something happened between me and Javier? Would I give up everything I had build up for myself in New York and live here or would I leave him once more? No. NO. Nothing was going to happen. As Elinor said, I needed to move on with my life. A life with Javier was impossible. Somebody yelled and interrupted my thoughts. I realized that it was Javier who said that the dinner was ready. Shabe and Raphael's rooms were empty so I assumed they were all waiting for me downstairs. And so it was. The dinner table was set and the siblings were waiting impatiently for the food to arrive. Abuelito was also there, finally arrived from whatever had been keeping him. I sat down at the left of Shabe, who smiled at me with glittering eyes.

"I am starving! Aren't you?" Javier came in with the pot and placed it on the table. I smiled at Shabe.

"Yes I am. It smells delicious Javier." He sat down on the bench in front of me, smiling too with full teeth visible.

"It tastes even more delicious, so help yourself." I took a piece of the chicken and some rice. It just melted in my mouth and I closed my eyes in pleasure. I took my time, enjoying every piece in my mouth. Raphael and Shabe were eating very fast, like they were in a hurry. Javier was not offended by this but smiled with affection at them both. Javier served me wine and it was exquisite. Abuelito had gone to his room, Shabe had whispered in my ear that he always did that now for a reason nobody knew.

"How can food taste so heavenly here?" Javier raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have good food in America?"

I swallowed the chicken I had in my mouth and smiled.

"Yes, of course. You can choose between so many different cuisines now but nothing is the same as Cuban cuisine. I believe that my visit here spoiled me for any other sort of cuisine."

"We did a good job with that, didn't we?" I started to think about all the others things that he did "a good job" in and Javier obviously thought the same. The table was silent until Shabe and Raphael asked to leave the table. Their request was accepted and I was left alone with Javier.

"So tell me," began Javier, "How is your family doing?"

"They are all fine. Susie had started in college, she is studying to become a history teacher I think, but I am not sure because she changes her subjects all the wanted to be a nurse before, but then it was a librarian, a lawyer and so on. My parents have started dancing again. Now that their daughters are gone, they enjoy each other a bit more."

"That is good. They don't have to worry about you and Susie so they enjoy themselves." I took some more chicken and Javier poured more wine in my glass.

"Yeah, I should know that they had had a difficult life. Did you know that their parents did not want them to marry?"

"I did not know that. Why could they not marry?" asked Javier before he took a sip of his wine.

"My mother's parents did not approve my father; they thought him not rich enough. At last, they agreed but it was only because my father got a job at Ford, and they probably assumed that was good enough for my mother."

"Did your mother approve of me?" The question was so unexpected that I dropped the glass of wine in my hand and the liquid spread itself on my dress, making it look like I had murdered someone. Javier was soon at his feet to fetch a towel to clean up the mess, but the dress was already ruined. Javier came back soon enough and stood in front of me, not knowing whether he should clean my dress with the towel or hand it over to me. I decided for him and took the towel from his hands. I dried the wine that was dropping on the floor but it was useless.

"Don't bother," said I when Javier wanted to run for another towel, "it is already too late."

"You can borrow one of my mother's dresses. No, no it is fine!" said he when I wanted to object. He took my hand, which send an electrical pulse directly to my stomach but I did not take it back. We walked by Shabe and Raphael's rooms, which must have seen us hand in hand and into Alma's room.

"I think you can find one yourself. Choose the one you like while I go down and undress the table." He went down, not without a last glance at my wine-covered dress and I went to the drawers, where I hoped to find a dress in my size. I took several out, to compare their sizes. They were quite big so even if I found one quite small, I would still swim inside. I found one that was red with white dots, which fit me quite well. The fabric was really smooth and light at the same time. I twirled a bit and took the dirty dress on one arm. I wondered what Shabe and Raphael were doing. I peeked inside Raphael's room and find him playing on his guitar and interrupting it at times to write down lyrics. Shabe was reading something, what it was I don't know but it made her laugh. Downstairs, the table was clean and empty again and Javier was nowhere in sight. I went through the entrance door and find him seated at the table in the courtyard. When he heard my steps, he turned around and looked at me intensively.

"You look good in that dress. You should wear those more often." I blushed, feeling hopelessly glad and shy over the compliment.

"The weather in New York does not really allow for this kind of dresses. You are spoiled with the sun all year round." I sat down on the chair next to him. He became thoughtful and looked really serious. I wondered what thoughts could make him look so grave.

"Would I have liked it? Live in America?" I was surprised for the second time at the unexpected question but luckily, no wine was near to ruin my dress. I figured that a frank answer was the best.

"No. You would have hated it. USA is not a friendly country. They hate immigrants as much as you hate gringos. Think of your family, of your mother! No, this was the best solution."

"How can you know that? Maybe I would have loved it and our lives would have been better there than here. My brother would not have had to move to Russia or my mother to die." He looked really distressed, maybe on the edge of crying so I put my hand over his and pressed it gently. He flinched but did not move his hand.

"No, you could not have changed the destiny. Your brother was an adult and made his own decisions. But it was selfish because it made your mother sad. But you did as you promised; you took care of your siblings." I stopped. I have had some things that I wanted to say but not really sure if it was time to say it. "I…I almost expected you would be married by now." This time, his reaction was extreme. He jumped to his feet and looked at me with shocked eyes.

"Me? Married? How can you think that?" I felt embarrassed. Did I really have to tell him the reason? But there was no turning point now.

"Well…I expected you would forget me soon. So I gave up and hoped you would be happy with your wife."

"How can you think that? Don't you know me at all?" This was surely leading to trouble. How could I explain to him all the pain I have felt when I decided to let him go? How I imagined his wife to be? To be able to touch him, to kiss him and hear him laugh…jealousy had nourished my love for Javier for months before I decided to stop thinking about Javier.

"It is getting late, I should go home." I looked at my watch and found it to be over eight. I hoped Daniel was not worried too much but I was sure he was expecting me to tell him every detail of my absence. I really hoped they had a phone and I was going to ask for that but Javier spoke first.

"You are not getting anywhere. I won't let you get caught by the secret police or raped in a corner." He shivered and I could see some of his anger leave his shoulder, because he was less tense. "Come, you will sleep in my mother's room."

"Is that wise?" I felt like I was intruding on a private ground but Javier just shook his head.

"It is what my mother would have wanted."

"If you say so." I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly but was really afraid on the inside. To sleep in the same house as Javier, to know he was near was a scary thought but immediately scolded myself for being such a loser. Again, nothing would happen if I did not allow it. He went upstairs and I followed him to accept the towel and objects people were given when staying over. I decided to tell Shabe that I was staying over and she was overexcited.

"We can share secrets and stay up late!" This was objected by her brother, who said she needed to wake up early tomorrow. I felt sorry for her, she obviously missed sisterly affection. I whispered in her ear that we could have a private moment any time she wanted. This made her happy again and we smiled conspiringly at Javier, who had no idea of what we were smiling of. I was granted first access to the bathroom and I brushed my teeth while looking at myself in the mirror. Cuba had made me beautiful, my cheeks were red and the skin had a darker tone than usual. When I went into Alma's room, I panicked. What did women wear here when they slept? In New York every woman wore a complete pyjama with top and pants unless they were naked of course. I assumed that the hot weather made it impossible for women to wear warm pyjamas.

I looked in Alma's drawers and found a silky dress that maybe served as a nightdress. I put it on and it sighed of delight. It was as smooth as feathers and light as air. I walked to the window. It was bare, without curtains and weather bitten glass that must have survived many hurricanes and cyclones. The sun was just on the edge between sky and the ground, colouring the sky in an orange and pink tone. It was beautiful and I absorbed the view with my entire being. It was magical and made me feel alive. I was "in the clouds" and did not hear the knock on the door or the door opening.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I startled and turned around, only to see Javier standing in the doorway, with a smile on his lips. I smiled too, still happily aroused by my admiration of the sunset.

"I never get tired of sunsets, they are magical. Unfortunately, New York has too many buildings to let anyone admire sunsets. You have to live in the country to do that." I babbled and remarked that I was nervous for some reason; perhaps it was the strangle sparkle in Javier's eyes.

"I wasn't speaking of the sunset, mi guapa ninfa." I had no idea what he had just said but he sounded wonderful, like a caress on the skin. I smiled and something electrifying passed in the air, it was pulsating, right there, between Javier and me. It was so strong that if Javier had come forward to kiss me, I would not have protested. But nothing happened because Javier said goodnight and was off with a flash. I realized when he had closed the door, that the "thing" in the air had been desire. I shook my head, like it was going to help against anything. How weak I had been at that moment! He wanted me still. I was on a mission, I had a job to do and I would not and should not forget it. I would tell him tomorrow that he maybe wanted more but I could not let it happen.

Bring us together again would only be a terrible mistake for everyone. And with that knowledge, I went to bed


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The sun woke me up, yes; the giant yellow ball was shining angrily in my face. I had an urgent need to pee. I left the bed and went downstairs. As a true adult, I could not wake up without coffee, and I was struggling to make sense of where I was. After a moment of blind searching, I found it and smashed the door in my hurry. The house at this moment of the day was quiet and quite fresh. It was peaceful and I felt fine, totally relaxed in the house where I used to be so often. But the house seemed dead at the same time, it was probably more alive when Alma and Carlos were living here. It was now an evidence of the cruelty of the world and a family's need to survive the horrors of life. I went to the living room, which had a door on the courtyard, which looked like a stable's door. I saw that the bench I had spent my night on was still there, standing in his loneliness. The library had few but worn books, where I could recognize José Marti and other Cuban writers. I was surprised to see Persuasion among the books, I had no idea how he could get a Jane Austen novel here in Cuba. The cover had been disguised to resemble another book but it was no doubt Persuasion but in Cuban and with the title "persuasión". It was strange, because I have not been able to read persuasion after my stay in Cuba, because of its resemblance with our story and of my firm conviction that we would never see each other again. I was wrong and maybe Persuasion could help me to handle this situation. I quickly put it back on the shelf, in case somebody would wake in and I considered making myself breakfast.

In the kitchen, I looked in cupboards, drawers and everywhere I was sure to find elements for my breakfast. I did not know whether they sliced the bread with a knife, like the British or if they simply tore it apart, like the French. I decided to tear it and eat it without any butter. I found the coffee and mixed it with water the pan. The smell of sweet coffee soon came to my nostrils and I enjoyed the warm coffee in an old mug, that looked like it had seen better days. Despite the obvious noise I must have emitted, no one came down to see what it was. I wonder when they woke up and how early they were supposed to leave for their respective businesses. I had to wake up early every day so I could be at the office in time and assist at the meeting where Richard decided what needed to be covered, the latest news and everything related to the business of journalism. Jogging had just become a popular sport and I was one of them who enjoyed running on the streets, contemplating New York as it woke up to meet his stressed inhabitants. I wanted to jog here as well, but I was afraid that I would venture myself in dangerous zones. After being completely sure that I was done with breakfast, I went upstairs to change to the borrowed dress. My other had been ruined yesterday, which was a shame because it was the only I had brought. Oh well, I would do just fine without it. I found a comb in a drawer and made my hair a little less messy. Downstairs, Shabe was pouring coffee to worn out cup.

"Hey! Already awake? I see that you have made coffee." She grabbed a piece of bread before she sat down in front of me. "We rarely make coffee these days."

"Why not?" Life without coffee was a sin and every New York citizen would agree with me.

"Nobody takes the time to do it. Everyone sleep in late and have only the time to grab a fruit before leaving the house. It is a pity because I really enjoy coffee but I guess routines stay."

"I always wake up early. It is in my nature as much as a preference. My job as a journalist requires me to wake up early to be ready for any possible interesting news. Most of the things I write about takes place later on the day but my job as a waitress in a café leave its marks, I guess."

"You worked as a waitress? I am working like one now, It is really amusing." Shabe's eyes were sparkling. My career as waitress had been short but I had disliked it intensely, the job was a sign of a hopeless dream of a better future and I have feared that I would spend the rest of my life as a waitress. Luckily, it was not the case. But I wondered of the prospects of a young, ambitious and beautiful woman like Shabe. She was obviously very talented but I hoped in my all heart that she would not end up working in that place forever. She deserved more than this. Had she been in the US, she probably could have tried for a model or maybe a career at Hollywood. I felt a feeling of protection toward her, I felt like protecting her against all the evils that she might encounter.

"It is not as glamorous as it seems. I liked it most in the mornings, where people would discuss their problems over their bagels but in the evening, drunk and immoral men would take every opportunity to pinch my bum. I cannot understand why you seem to like it so much. You would actually be perfect as model or even an actress. Singers face terrible challenges, but you might say, so do models and actresses as well."

"I want to be an actress or a model. My brothers think it is dangerous to have such ambitions and of course they are right. They do not really disapprove, they just know as well as I do, how useless it is to think that artists can become anything here. At least, not if you want to end up imprisoned or even dead in a ditch somewhere. I get enough paid and I should be satisfied but I can't really stop dreaming."

I could only nod at this realistic depiction of Cuban life because I understood the challenges of living in a totalitarian state. Raphael, Shabe and Javier did not seem to like the situation but they did not seem to blame Castro for their situation. He was still seen as the person who had liberated them from Batista. I should not be the person telling them the real character of their leader; after all, they did not tell me if Johnson had any dark secrets.

I looked at the clock and was reminded that it was early yet but I needed to get back to the hotel. Daniel was probably wondering where I was and the Suarez would soon be on their way out. Javier appeared and smiled when he saw Shabe and me.

"Hey. Did you sleep well?" His tone was casual, the memories of the electrified moment seemed gone from his mind. I can say, I had not forgotten it. Therefore, my tone was not as casual.

"Yes. Thank you. I see you are about to leave, I should be heading for the hotel as well." He nodded and prepared a sandwich in what seemed like a second.

"I know but let me accompany you on the way. The factory lies in the direction of the hotel so I can keep you company. Let me just call the rest and we will be going." I had scarcely time to blink before Raphael and Shabe was ready to go and putting their shoes on. Shabe had told me that Raphael was too young to work yet so he visited the free school that taught young boys the basic skills of reading, writing and counting. He would quit school at fifteen to work like his sister. Shabe and Raphael parted from us and Javier and I were alone again. I did not know which topic to talk about but Javier made it easier by keeping himself busy. He ate his sandwich slowly, as to enjoy every piece. This was a trick used by many people to be satisfied with little food. Javier would probably not get food until many hours later so he fooled the stomach by thinking it had eaten plenty of food. I took half an hour to reach the hotel by walking so there was time to talk about whatever was awkward.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I decided after a moment of silence to start with the topic that occupied my mind the most.

"I, I feel sorry for Shabe."

He turned to me with his surprise look.

"Why for?"

"Well, she obviously meant for something more than being a waitress. Had she been in America, she would have been a model by now. Or an actress. She got the potential of being something great."

"But this is Cuba, she must get used to sacrifices. She will get used to it, I promise. Now she is young and ambitious, dreams are okay to have but she will return to Earth sooner or later."

It made me angry. Could he not see her beauty, her talent? She was meant for something more, I knew it. But maybe…

"What if she came with me back to New York? I could help her with her career and she would live with me!" I felt excited at the idea because it would feel like having a sister again. Susie was of course my real sister but she was 25 and didn't really need my help. Shabe would bloom in New York.

"Out of the question! You should not put grill in her head, making her believe she can be someone. She is Cuban in heart and soul and she should accept that life is difficult even for teenage girls. She will grow up and marry a man that will make her happy and she will be safe."

"You sound absolutely like my father. Deep down, USA and Cuba are the same, believe that girls cannot be anything these days that they are born to marry, have kids and please their arrogant husbands! Shabe has potential to be really great and you refuse to let her be happy on her own! You of anyone I thought to agree with me! It was you that wanted to come to America in the first place!"

I was breathing heavily and my face was probably red from anger. My disgust for Javier was great at the moment and I wanted to be alone, to tear myself from this Javier that had changed so much. My pace was quicker but his legs were longer than mine so I could not really outpace him. I was like a bull, head down, full speed forward. Javier stopped my race by planting himself in front of me.

"Look, I don't want to argue with you. It is clear that our opinions are different on this so do not trouble yourself of explaining it to me. I get it; Shabe is to stay here, where she will be miserable for the rest of her life. She is your sister after all." I waved nonchalantly with my hand.

His eyes were wandering left and right before he looked at me.

"Don't be so insulted. You have lived too much in America to remember that things are different here. They teach us to be content with what we earn and that includes also our fate. Shabe knows very well that she will never be a singer or an actress. She is young still and let herself dream. You will just make it worse by letting her believe that there is a world better than the one she was born in. Besides, Raphael is everything to his sister, would you really want to tear Shabe from her brother?"

Guilt and shame replaced the anger but I could not help to feel that it would save her life as well. Beauty was a reward and a curse at the same time. The situation could easily make the balance trip over.

"I'm sorry Javier. It was wrong of me to say such things. But I do believe that Shabe knows her situation. She is intelligent and beautiful. It is just that I would want her miserable with a man she would not love."

"I know Katey and I will take care of that. Any man will keep his hands off my sister until she is 30 if I can help it."

I laughed despite of myself. "Good luck with that. All men want to own beauty. I'm sure there are already hundreds of suitors waiting to take her virginity. It is always what they want. Love is not important as long as they can enjoy it."

"Is this what you think of me? That I was only after sex?"

I became conscious that I had spoken too fast. Bitterness had made sceptical for men' ability to be honest. Several boyfriends had cheated on me and assured me that they loved me. It was a fashionable way of living in New York, have multiple girls at the same time. True love was something vaguely familiar. But what should I say to Javier to convince him that our relationship had been different?

"No. I never thought that. I have experienced that men often seek pleasure more than love. Love is overrated these days in America Javier, the only thing people want is kids and money. Women just start to get independent but once you have kids, you stuck at home with them all day while your husband possess all the money. It is like your prisons here only that the décor is different."

My speech must have been puzzling because Javier did not see anything. What could he have said? The silence became quickly oppressing and very much awkward. Luckily, the hotel was in sight so I could start to figure out how I would take my leave. We stopped in front of the grey building and tried to say something sensible.

"So thanks for the dinner and everything. I enjoyed it." I hoped it was neutral enough but I had this strange feeling that I did not want to leave Javier just yet. From being angry with him before, I wished now not to leave him. But I didn't want to show how much I wanted things to be like before, to be the careless teenagers again. But we were adults with obligations and duties.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Next time you'll have to cook for us."

"No way. You would be sick just by the smell of the food."

He laughed heartily and I smiled despite of myself.

"Then I guess not. Take care of yourself and we will…see each other?"

"I guess so. Bye then."

You would not find any take leave more embarrassing than this. I went inside and I felt his gaze upon me. I have barely arrived here and I have seen Javier more than three times already! I needed some space to be alone and think about all of this. To see Javier had been great, but it was not my priority. Nay, maybe it was. It feels like I had forgotten the woman I had become and lost myself to the teenager I used to be. I was here on a serious mission and I needed to find Daniel. I found him in the breakfast room, looking very enthusiastic when he saw me.

"So…when are you going to tell me that you are acquainted with sexy Cubans men?"

I sat down at the table and smiled mischievously. I ordered coffee even though I wasn't thirsty.

"We barely know each other, why should I tell you about my friends?"

"I know honey, but people usually say that talking to strangers is easier than talk to friends."

I reflected about it and decided that Daniel was trustworthy and would probably listen to my story without judging. So I told him the entire story, from the beginning of the relationship to the break up without forgetting to include the recent days. Daniel listened without flinching and nodded to show that he listened. At the end of my story, I breathed out heavily, feeling like a big stone had been removed from my heart. I never had told so much about myself to anyone, not even my parents.

"I see. I don't need to tell that you are in a complicated situation; I think you know already it. What I can say for my part is you need to figure out what you want out of this. You're friends, right?"

"Yes, I think so. But every time I see him I can't help myself from thinking what we had before I left."

"You live too much in the past. I think it might help you to talk with Javier about what you both had and what you want now. Obviously, if he makes you think than it is clear that you still have feelings for him. Take a day to think about it. Why are you feeling the way you do around him? Can you forget the past and move on like friends? If we would leave Cuba today, would there be something you would want to Javier? Many questions I know but the answers are even more interesting. Take a day to think about it. Andrés is coming any minute now."

What did I want? Friendship, a second chance or some funny entertainment while staying in Cuba? Anne Elliot never had to make these choices because she loved her Frederick even though she still considered a life with her cousin. It was some questions that needed serious consideration and could not be answered in a whim.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Andrés arrived at the hotel just as we finished our breakfast. He looked very upset and sad at the same time. The reason why was soon known.

"There will be no prison visit today. My contact said they became suspicious so it is better that we wait until tomorrow. Otherwise the rumors will spread and you will be in danger."

"But what should we do instead? There is nothing to do otherwise."

Andrés smiled so you could see all his teeth. "You could go to the beach."

Daniel looked worried. "Isn't that risky? White people among Cubans could appear a little suspect." I nodded in agreement. It wasn't like we could mix with the crowd very easily but I looked forward to spend a day at the beach.

Andrés shook off the fears like a fly. "No problem. You can go to the Russian part of the beach. Just look superior and proud and you will be fine. Don't talk to anyone and even less with each other." Daniel and I looked at each other and something in that look made it. I had a question to Andrés burning on my lips at the moment.

"Do you think it is possible that I could make a phone call back home?"

He hesitated but his answer was straightforward. "I think you can but I am afraid that they listen to phone conversations. Who would like to call?"

"My friend Elinor. She understands me like no one else so I can certainly sound cryptic and she would still understand the underlying message. But I cannot ask them at the reception, can I?"

"No, but come with me. You can call your friend from my house."

We agreed that Daniel and I would take our bathing clothes and we would all go to Andrés' house so I could make my phone call from there. His house was no far away and we became acquainted with Andrés' family. He had a pretty wife, with gentle brown eyes, and five kids all energetic and beautiful. I dialed the number and hoped that she would answer.

"Hello?"

"Missy? The train is leaving at schedule and everyone is onboard. Make sure everyone is correctly sited at their places." And with that, I hang up. Elinor and I had agreed that a coded message would leave no mark and be efficient. The sentences were a code for "everything is fine. Tell everyone I am perfectly safe." Elinor would alert my boss, my parents and my sister that I was alive and well.

Daniel and I left Andrés and his family, promising them that we would dine with them this evening. Now the beach awaited us and we were excited despite the risks and we were almost singing when we arrived to the Russian beach. We checked ourselves and walked on the white sand with the air of knowing exactly who we were, what we did and why we were here. Andrés was right, the Russians were almost as white as the sand they were lying on and our light skin was passed unnoticed. We found a spot in the shadows and lied down, extremely glad at the idea of spending an entire day at the beach. It was almost like we forgot why we were here in the first place. Daniel took pictures and I read a book, making sure no one could see it was in English. In theory, we were enemies. I could not understand why people had not noticed us yet because people usually said they could make the difference between an American and a Russian but here, no one noticed, perhaps due to our haughty air. I really hoped that this Cold war would end one day, but now it looked unlikely. The problems arose from the Second World War. I remember it well. I had been four when the war ended. I could only remember the happiness people showed on the streets but it was not like the US had experienced any of the monstrosities Europe had been trough. Nobody had expected that it meant the beginning of another war.

I had put on a lot of sun lotion, so hopefully I wouldn't get sunburned otherwise my stay in Cuba would be terribly painful. Several hours passed and we opened our picnic basket, made by Andrés' kind wife. Everything was delicious and we licked our fingers in delight. Cubans really knew how to make good food. The clock passed three and we decided to return to the hotel. I took a quickie in the water to cool down. The water was fresh and nice. I was conscious that everyone could see me so I hurried out, eager to be back on safe ground. The hotel was in sight soon enough and we talked all the way, sharing our emotions about the afternoon, since we had been silent on the beach. We were ashamed that a day at the beach could make us forget so soon our duties but we promised ourselves that we would do better tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The hotel was cool and dark when we arrived. To come inside hurt a little after spending an entire day out in the sun. The day had gone fast and it was time to change for the dinner at Andrés' house. I changed to something simple and elegant: a simple black blazer and my favorite white skirt. I was conscious that fashion was changing to the most outrageous things, an example was the hippy style which was quickly becoming popular. I was maybe old-fashioned but I liked classical and single design like Chanel, and the skirt had cost me a fortune but it was worth it. Sorry about the talk of fashion, I got carried away. Anyway, Daniel was waiting in the reception when I walked down the stairs and he, and all the others males in the room, stared at me with awe. I was flattered by the appreciative glances because it is nice for a woman to feel that your great efforts are not wasted. Daniel looked at me teasingly and planted a light kiss on my hand.

"Honey, you could kill with that look. Where did you find that lipstick? I think my partner would love it."

I laughed. He was talking of my red lipstick, which was an indispensable accessory for me in my everyday life. It was weird in the sixties to wear red lipstick for a woman and for a man too but it was part of my image as someone who never did what everyone else did.

"I will tell you later. Come, I do not like to attract more attention than I already do."

We headed to Andrés's house, who had given very detailed instructions on how to get there. They were so detailed that we were there in a flash and got lost only once. Andrés himself opened and we got welcomed to the warm and inviting house. It was a tad smaller than Javier's house, which was odd compared to the difference in family size. The kitchen and living-room was one big room with a big wooden table in the middle who served as dinner-table and were the family socialized. Andrés explained that they educated their children to be open-minded but also critical about the knowledge they received from various sources but the most important of all, they were taught about the value of a family and an idle hear to listen to each other. In that way, they kept together and Andrés was confident that his kids would make something of themselves when they would become older. He introduced us to everyone, whom I had noticed had been told to be clean and well-mannered because they came forward to great with a firm shake of the hand. They were all boys, aged from fifteen to five. I could not help but admire Andrés' wife, who could not have it easy with all this energetic boys around her. Now I could make a more detailed description of the woman I had merely taken a glimpse before. Ana had brown curly hair, a brown I would call milk chocolate with hazel eyes and tanned skin. She was beautiful, she had the natural charm of a happy wife and mother. She took me aside and brought me to the kitchen where I was told to slice the tomatoes. Her English was not very good but still a little better than my Spanish. She talked of her youth and I was surprised to hear that she was thirty-five because if you saw her, you would really believe she was ten years younger.

Chance, Ana said, had followed throughout her entire life. She also said that she knew that women in her country were not as privileged as her. It had been love at first sight. Andrés' family was quite rich and her family had consented eagerly to the match. I asked why they didn't live in a bigger house.

"The money help us to pay for children. They go to school and is what I want for them."

"I understand, said I while I was slicing the last tomato, Education is the biggest gift a child can get. I guess food is expensive too?"

She nodded. "Andrés has…she waved with her hand in irritation while she was searching the word, no siblings?"

"He is the only child?"

"Si and parents are dead so all money go to us. My parents… She paused for a moment and looked very sad so I guessed that something very terrible had happened to them. My guess was totally correct. My parents killed when rebels confronted with police. An accident. Five years ago."

I didn't know what to say or do but my first reaction was to give her a hug. She was surprised of the gesture and smiled at me afterwards.

"Thank you. But now dinner is ready."

I helped her set the table and she called everyone, who had disappeared to the second floor. I was surprised how organized the family was. The boys waited in turn to get served which is quite extraordinary. You could see that Andrés loved his wife passionately. During the dinner, he would talk to us but reach out for Ana's hand and kiss her fingers. Ana had also her way of showing her affection. When the dinner was finished, she passed behind him with her handful of dishes and bend down to kiss him in the neck, forgetting that the dishes were dangerously on the point to fall on the ground. Unfortunately for us the hour was getting really late. The evening had gone so fast that I had hardly noticed that the night has fallen. Andrés and Ana were entertaining and eager to speak about anything but mostly interested in the US. They wanted to know what life was like and if it was beautiful. Daniel and I had looked at each other and asked ourselves how much we could tell and what we could tell. We tried to tell the truth but without making it seem like Cuba was hell.

I think at the end of the evening, Andrés and Ana had got an account about USA which wasn't romantic nor particularly harsh but just realistic. I didn't know if they were happy here or if they wanted to move to the US. They would be safe there with a better education for the children and better opportunities for them. After all, they weren't without money as I could figure from Andrés. I particularly remember Operation Peter Pan a few years ago and I think everything was going well for the children now. I sincerely hoped they could take the step to move but it meant to leave their life as it was here and create a totally new one in the US. It took time for me to say goodbye to Ana because she always came up with new questions about USA. It wasn't until Andrés decided that the conversation was over and that he would follow us back home that we finally made it. Daniel and I promised Ana to come back for Christmas. We walked back home with the certain assurance that we had spent a very good evening.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I woke up with a slight headache, which I thought was normal considered what had happened yesterday. I realized also when I took my shower that I had not thought of my job for two days. I didn't have so much to give my boss and Amnesty so I decided to record my impressions. I spent an hour for this before my stomach decided to give a little gurgle. I had not had any breakfast yet! I hid my notes and recordings in my bag, which I placed under the bed "in case of". Nothing much had happened in a few days, mostly us having fun in Havana. I had visited two prisons so far and I didn't know how many more were needed to get an accurate depiction of the dictatorship in Cuba. Oh well, maybe everything would sort out in the end. It was nine in the morning and when passing through Daniel's room, I wondered if he was awake. I knocked but nobody answered so I guessed he was already in the dining-room. Something was wrong though, I could feel it. No danger or so but…eh, never mind.

In the dining room, a few people were eating breakfast and everyone was turning their heads at my entrance. The room got silent and I could decipher some whispers about the "beautiful blonde with the mysterious job" or something which turned my blood cold: "she looks like a spy". I swallowed my saliva and made a very audible "gulp" or so I thought at least. I sat down at a table, still feeling everybody's eyes on me. I would warn Andrés and Daniel that we needed to be more discrete in the future because the rumors could spread. Still, the people here were foreigners: some minor Russian businessmen, a few tourists from China and Mexico and diverse people. But if the people started to talk, the hotel workers would pick up the gossip. I was certain that the housemaids were gossiping as well. I was afraid that some maid would go in and maybe discover my notes and my tape recorder. It was all in English but what normal tourist had a tape recorder under her bed? I could not tell the reception either. It would certainly look suspicious if I asked them to leave my room alone. It was a risk I would not take. I simply needed a safe place to hide them.

Anyway, I ordered breakfast and looked around to see if Daniel was coming. The people around me had started talking again and the different languages were combined to create a loud concerto. My breakfast came and I ate healthily. I was also very thirsty, something that had to be due the exotic meal I ate last night. I ate quite quickly because I was not done with my notes. I had two more pages to fill with my impressions and opinions. I sincerely hoped we would visit at least two more prisons, out of the hundred that existed around Havana.

I entered the reception in the same moment Andrés entered hotel. We saw each other at the same time and smiled.

"Senorita! Have you slept well? I hope your throat was not too dry? I can guess that our food must taste very spicy for you from USA."

I smiled. "Thanks Andrés. The food tasted wonderfully, make sure you say to Ana one more time even though I must have said a thousand times."

"Si, claro. I have good news for you." Andrés grinned.

"Only good? There is always bad news when somebody says they have good news."

Andrés' smile dropped. "Si Senorita. The good news is that I have convinced some prison directors to let you visit." My jaw dropped. Several? But what about being discovered?

"Great" What is the bad news?"

"The bad news is that people have started to talk about you. I hear here and there about the blonde girl and her photographer who had been seen visiting prisons. Havana is not small but in the wrong circles the rumours can spread to the secret police. And then I am afraid that it will create a diplomatic conflict great enough to create war between Cuba and the US."

"All of this, because of me?! What do you suggest I do?" I was revolted. And what Andrés didn't say was I would also be thrown in prison. Oh, I am sure it would upset the American Government and Amnesty but what could they really do about it? I remember the Cuban missile crisis a few years ago and would the US really sacrifice illusionary peace with the Soviet Union for a journalist and a photographer? I don't think so.

"Stay low for a while. I can take Daniel with me. He is a man so they will trust him more. Besides, it is you who is the centre of curiosity in Havana. Daniel will nevertheless have to leave his camera behind. Authorities don't like photographers very much."

"Okay. I nodded. I knew that I would not visit any prisons for a while and my heart sank. What did I suppose to do instead? Sit in my room for days? I would go mad. What can I do instead Andrés. I can't go out, I must stay inside because otherwise someone will see me in town. What can I do?"

"Oh oh why so sad faces? Life is bliss!" Daniel had joined them and looked fresh and clean just like someone who had just been to a spa.

I watched him suspiciously. Where had he been? And why had not he answered the door? "May I ask where you had been?"

Daniel's smile grew bigger. "Oh nowhere, I just took my beauty sleep. I feel fresh as a daisy this morning!"

"Well I am sorry but I don't. See you later." Angry and jealous at Daniel, I left the reception and went into my room, making sure to close my door as loudly as I can.

Daniel must have been told about the news because he knocked at my door and said he was sorry but if he took my notes, he could maybe write down something for me. Andrés had said that it was not too risky as long as Daniel was discrete. I opened my door and saw Daniel standing there, looking guilty.

I gave him my notes. "Don't look so ashamed. Here. Have fun!" And I smashed the door again. Just great. A boring room for myself and nothing to do.

This was going to be fun.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I did some work, took a shower, slept a little, ordered lunch, read _Emma_, reflected on _Emma _for a bit and then finally decided that I was bored. YES. Utterly, completely, totally bored. Almost an entire day had passed. Why were not they home yet? It was too warm to stay inside in a hotel room but the air was warmer outside so I didn't know whether to keep the windows open or closed. The son had moved, indicating that it was surely the late afternoon and I had spent my day doing nothing. Surely something must happen! Somebody must have heard me because in the next moment, somebody knocked on the door. I thought to myself that yes! They were back! I opened the door faster than the cheetah ran.

"You're back! I was starting to hope you would never come back!" I shouted at the person in front of me but it turned out be not Andrés and definitively not Daniel.

"I didn't know I was expected?" Yes. Ladies and Gentlemen. Javier in person. Outside my hotel room. With flowers in his hand.

I looked at him with horror and surprise. "What are you doing here? And what about those flowers?"

He smiled and looked down at the colourful mix of what seemed to be camellias. "You like them? They are for you."

Completely destabilised by this, I took them with shaky hands. "Thanks, but I don't have a vase for them. But come in, if you want." He accepted the invitation and went inside while I closed the door and wondered what I would do now.

I stood there, by the door and wondered what I should do with the flowers and with Javier. We had left each other in an embarrassing way and it had been almost two days since. I had completely forgotten to think about me and Javier. Somehow I felt that Javier had come to talk about just that. I could not help but feel nervous about it because it meant that subjects that had been discussed in ten years would explode in a cacophony of confessions and I was not sure if I could deal with that. It was about a week until I would go home and anything was possible, which made it not less scary.

Meanwhile, Javier was looking at the room. He must have thought it to his taste because he nodded smiling.

"Are you always this organised? It is really hot in here, why don't you open a window. Get some fresh air. He walked to the window and opened it, smiling to some scene happening below. I love Havana in the afternoon. I think it is at its best then. Don't you?"

I put the flowers on my desk and hided my sweaty hands behind my back. It had been a mistake to invite him inside because now his presence was imposed on me and even worse, I was blocking the door. I made myself my own prisoner in this trap. I moved closer to the bed so that the door was available if I wanted him to leave.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Javier turned around from the window. His expression was hard to read and I dreaded a bit his answer.

"To see you actually. I was coming to apologize for whatever I did wrong since you have been avoiding me for two days. I wanted to see how you were."

"Avoiding you? You think I avoided you because of something you did? I have actually a job to do you know. Not entirely true but I wasn't going to tell him that. I didn't come to Cuba to spend time with you."

"You don't have to sound so mean. I want to spend time with you, to see who you had become. You seemed to have made a woman of yourself."

Spend time with me? What was I going to answer to that?

"I am happy with my life Javier. I have a job, my own apartment, a stabile income, a reputation as one of the best journalists of my city and my own circle of friends. I don't need someone to rule my life."

"Is that your way of saying love is not included in your so important life? What about me? How long did it take you to forgive me?"

I was completely scared because he brought up intimate subjects that I wasn't ready to answer yet. I guess it was just a matter of time before we had to discuss this.

"It wasn't easy Javier. I wanted to come back immediately but my parents insisted that I needed to continue my education. I went to college and got my journalist degree. In the beginning… I sighed heavily. In the beginning I thought about you all the time. Slowly I understood that a future with you would never be possible and I started to adjust to my new life. I saw all what my friends started to become. Contraception is starting to make the women more conscious about their choices but the ideologies are still there, quite stagnant in time."

"Katey, I could never forget you. You were the one who helped me become like this, even though my heart also broke when you left. But what is contraception?

It was so absurd. To start with serious confession and end with such a random question. I could not stop it. I started to giggle which ultimately grew into laughter, uncontrollable laughter. When I gradually calmed down and whipped my eyes, I saw that Javier was looking at me like I was a mad person.

"Contraception is when a woman don't want kids and take something to make love with her man without being afraid to have a baby nine months later."

"Oh. Do you take it?"

Now it was embarrassing. "Yes. Yes, I take it."

From there, I could not explain it but electricity was building up in the air, like something was about to explode. In the next second, or even millisecond, Javier had climbed over the bed and draw me close to him and take my lips in a passionate kiss. My body reacted immediately and I pulled myself closer to him, so close that he lost balance and fell backward on the bed.

"I have waited ten years to do this," murmured Javier in my ear.

He rolled us so that he was on top of me and from there, nothing could stop our hunger for each other. We tore off her clothes, kissed and touched everywhere we could. We were both more experienced now and gone was the first time when we were horny teenagers. He murmured words in Spanish, words that I didn't understand but sounded so nice, like an extra caress on the skin. By the time he entered me, I had already experienced one orgasm and the absolute conviction that I was lost, lost to a man I had tried to forget and suppress from my mind. He knew how to do it, how to make me reach the crescendo with skilful and effective moves. He came slowly after me and fell over me. Maybe he realised how heavy he was because he rolled off and took me in his arms.


	19. Chapter 19

"It is strange, is it not?" We were both lying naked on the bed, too warm and sweaty to even move in the bed, afraid that it would be even warmer if we did. Something like euphoria was going through in my veins and at the moment, I felt good. Really good. All my fears and worries gone. I needed to hold on to the feeling as long as I could before doubts would overcome me again.

"What is strange? Javier asked. He was lying on his back, hands behind his neck and a very satisfied smile on his lips. He looked like Cesar must have looked after Cleopatra slept with him the first time. It was very flattering and irritating mostly because I felt like he had just been waiting for this moment, to get me on my back.

"This. I thought I had it under control and yet this is the evidence that I am weak. I may have some feelings for you after all."

"Life is not controllable querida. I can confess that I may have some feelings for you too."

"Hello, hello there Katey! What are you do…"

Of course he had to storm in now. It was inevitable. Both Javier and I looked up in horror at the intruder who had literally run into the room. Yes, I am referring of course to Daniel who couldn't help to stick his nose deep in secrets. He stopped talking when he saw us, totally naked and lying in sweat on the small bed. His mouth dropped a little and he just starred before he mumbled something and walked out. But before he left the room, I had time to see his wide grin, a grin you would find on a little boy when he had done something bad which he didn't feel guilty for.

How embarrassing! I had not adjusted to the idea that I had slept with Javier and now, I needed to adjust to the idea that Daniel knew something that he could use against me. Daniel and I had developed a relationship pretty much similar to siblings. Therefore, I knew without actually knowing that Daniel would never gossip. And yet, I would need to explain who the man in bed with me was and that was pretty much the difficult part.

"You need to go," said I to Javier.

He looked confused. "Why. Aren't we nice here?"

"We are very nice here. Perhaps too nice. I started to gather my clothes, put my panties on with one hand while gesturing uselessly with the other. The thing is, Javier, that this was meant to be a secret. Yes, a big secret. Nobody would know and I was going to leave in one week without any remorse. But now, the secret is out and I have to confess to another why I was lying in a bed with a man I was sure to feel nothing for! This is all a very big mess!"

He sat up on the bed and looked at me with an intensive look. "Do you regret this?"

"No, I do not regret it! But I do not want it to be repeated!" Could he not see it?

"What happens if we do it again? You fall in love with me again? That must be terrible!" His tone was sarcastic now and his eyebrows seemed to have become one.

"We live in two different worlds Javier. A future with me is impossible for you. Where shall we live? I will never leave my work to live here in Cuba, a female gringo and to become the wife who cooks dinner and take care of the children! I am an independent woman Javier! A woman without a man at her side and her own economy! I have everything I need and I got it with my own talent, my own sweat and blood. I will not be defeated!" Something had got into me and it was like I would not stop. You know what? It was good that we never got together because we were not meant to be in the first place!"

"Enough! You have said enough! Be prepared to meet your own equal because I will not give up. I will show you that you are still in love with me and most importantly, that a life with me is actually highly possible! Just wait for it!"

He stormed out of the room and closed the door very loudly behind him. I didn't know what to feel or what to think so I just decided to lay down on the bed and the most funny of all is that I feel asleep immediately.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

It was dark when I woke up and I was totally and utterly awake. I felt like running a marathon right now. The truth came back in a flash. Javier came unexpectedly and we made love. Daniel came in and interrupted and I become nervous and I asked him to leave. He got angry and we had a fight, until he got enough and left. Yep, this is a good summary of yesterday's evening. Everything was so perfect until Daniel came and ruined everything. He needed to be told about it. I left my room and tiptoed quietly to Daniel's room. I tried to open it and voila, the door opened. Daniel had made a big mistake by not locking the door. The thought flashed in my head that this was completely ridiculous and I was probably crazy but it was too late. I was already in the room and the point of waking him up. But he, somehow, heard me and I could notice a black figure moving in the dark calling: "who's there?" but also another voice, a dark and exotic one, mumbling: what's the matter?"

I was really shocked. Who was the other voice? What did it do in Daniel's bed?

"Daniel, said I, who is there?"

"Katey?"

At that moment, I ran out of the room and quickly regained my own. I knew he was coming by the steps in the corridor, and chose not to close the door. I needed explanations and he would surely give me some. I was right, twenty seconds after he was at the door. He closed the door behind him and started to walk in the room, probably to sit down on the bed. I followed him with my eyes from the corner of the room where I stood. The tension was palpable and Daniel was breathing heavily, like he had just run the 100 m.

"I am sorry Katey, he said in a wretched tone.

"Sorry for what? I should not be the one you are apologizing too. Have you not a boyfriend at home? What would he say?"

"He would be okay with it. We are sort of having an open relationship right now."

"Open relationship? She had never heard the term before nor was she sure to hear the definition.

"It is when both partners in a relationship agree to have sex with others. It is a way to expand our limits. We discussed over it when I was told to work here. Anyhow, it can be shocking for some people. Daniel's tone trough of all this had been casual, normal which was weird considering his heavy breathing. By the way, said he, what were you doing in my room?"

"I wanted to see you to ask what you wanted. You interrupted me in something very important."

He smiled. "The sexy Cuban in your bed? Who is he? Is he not the guy from the reception?"

Katey crossed her arms over her chest. "I think you are in a bad position since I understand you have your own little Cuban."

He went back to his serious face. "Oh yes Amador. It seems we have been doing the same thing, haven't we?" He was smiling teasingly at her.

"How long have this been going on?"

"Actually we met yesterday. I don't know. We sort of connected immediately. He works at the hotel and started talking to me in English and one thing led to another… and you?"

"Well you remember the story about me and when I was in Havana ten years ago? Well that was Javier."

"Oh! Daniel laughed. So that's him! Well, honey, you have good taste. So, what happened?"

"You came in and interrupted us. I do not really know what happened but I think I freaked out and we started fighting about us. He left after saying that he believed in a future with me. I don't know what to expect. But it is your fault! I was happy before you came in and…" She stammered, unable to really explain what feelings had gone through her head when she was naked with Javier. She realized she was naked now, under the thin garment she had wrapped around herself.

"And what darling? Brought you back to reality? At least, you got some great sex, I presume from your red cheeks and dreamy eyes."

"And I guess you got some too?"

"Katey, come and sit down with me. I don't have energy to quarrel with you now. Let's rest our heads and talk about this tomorrow. I can see that clearly, something is wrong. Come Katey, let's be friends."

She resisted for a moment but agreed with a sigh that it was best to talk with a clear and rested mind. They slept next to each other, as reunited friends. How could they know that evil was coming to meet them on the morrow?


	21. Chapter 21

Katey left her bed more tired than when she had entered it. At least, the most important matter was solved: she was friend with Daniel again. She could not forget Javier and she knew very well he would not let himself be forgotten but right now she needed breakfast. The rest didn't matter for now. She had forgot about her job, which was a disaster since she came for Cuba and now she could not even do her job, but had to sit in her room until she got green light from Andrés. It scared her how easy it was to forget her duty to her country and to human rights. But, then again, breakfast. A coffee would probably make everything clear.

They sat down at a table and ordered their usual breakfast. Katey sighed of happiness when she took a sip of her coffee.

"Only Cubans can make good coffee." Katey

"Is that so? Daniel said in disbelief. I believe, added he, that our home country is the best at making coffee. I think this is quite mediocre."

"You fool! You don't know how real coffee taste like!"

"Of course I do! I guess it is the water that makes it different. I wonder if they have better or worse water here."

They were not left with much time to consider it before something happened in the reception which made everyone turn their heads. Five police officers, with strict black uniforms and heavy weapons under their vests, were walking toward the dining room and especially, toward Katey and Daniel. One of them seemed to be the chief police, mostly because of the slight difference in uniform and that he was wearing a strange hat. They stopped at Daniel and Katey's table and the officer in strange hat pointed his finger at them. He started to scream in Spanish, incomprehensible for the Americans but his manners led to believe that they certainly had done something very terrible. All the other guests starred at them with disgust and contempt and one guest even spitted on the ground while looking at them. When the officer was finished, he gestured to the other four, who took each American and put handcuffs on them. Daniel and Katey had starred at the officer with chocked and confused eyes. When they were handcuffed, they protested wildly which made the officer very angry and the Americans felt a gun pushed against their backs. They had no idea what was going on and why they were charged but they knew, that whenever they had done, would have terrible consequences for them both and everyone they knew here in Cuba.

I know it is a short chapter but I think it is needed for the story. I love cliffhangers and the suspense it gives. I write when I have inspiration and it comes and goes. Besides, I am in a writing school where you don't have any occasion to write anything else. I learn so much about writing!

By the way, I am so proud of how this story develops, even I don't know how this is going to end. Exciting!


	22. Chapter 22

After travelling in an uncomfortable car for what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at a grey and cold building where the word cárcel was set in big, black letters. It looked like a prison. The fear gripped us both. The door opened on Daniel's side and they dragged him out of the car. When I tried to come out, they pushed me back and closed the door. I shouted after Daniel but he could not hear me of course. I watched hopelessly Daniel walk into the prison-like building as the car drove away. No need to say that I was really scared at this point. Where were they taking me? What have I done? Except trying to get information about the condition in…that's it! Someone must have betrayed us? Who could have done such a thing? The only people outside Daniel and me who knew about it were Andrés and Javier. I became ill by the thought. Who else could it be? To betray us would be a big risk for Andrés because it would mean that he had cooperated with the enemy and he would be thrown in prison as well. It could only be Javier. No, he could not be him. Or? Maybe I had been wrong all this time. Maybe he became friends with me so he could easier tell the secret police about my filthy affairs later on. Sleeping with me was just something extra he had wanted to allow himself.

They car stopped in front of a building not unlike the one Daniel had been taken too. It was grey and boring and would not have caught my eye if I had not been told to. They opened the car door and dragged me with force into the warm air. They hurt my arm and I whined over it quietly. The massive doors were open and we came into a room that looked a little bit like a hotel reception. A grey, metal table was placed on the side of the room while the other was occupied by vast bookcases filled with folders. It looked very old and very outdated. This was how the prisons were in the US forty years ago, even longer. Paper was how they documented everything.

Behind the table there was a man, who looked very old but also very mean and irritated. I estimated he was about sixty and I must say, he looked very intimating to me with his big bushy eyebrows. I was brought to him and he starred (I swear) at my breasts! I guessed he was pretty glad to have this job if this turned out to be a women prison. The chief police made a military salute of some kind and lowered his head to whisper something in the eyebrows-man's (for lack of imagination) ear. He might have said it aloud, I would not have understood anyway. The eyebrow-man looked at me and when the chief police was done, gave me a smile that made me very uneasy. It was like he was picturing me naked. He made a gesture to two guys behind him and my arms were passed from one pair of strong hands to another. I would surely have big bruises tomorrow. They were holding so tight that I feared for my bones. I was led to a corridor that stank of something I could not put my finger on. I expected to see many women here; after all, I had seen some prisons and women prisons could not be so much different? Finally, they opened a massive door probably made of hard steel and pushed me inside it. They closed the door and locked it. It was completely dark and my tears came as soon as the empty silent filled my veins.


	23. Chapter 23

My tears were all gone after a while and I felt very empty and miserable. I had no idea what to expect next and it was cold in here. My eyes had adjusted to the missing light and I could see that my room was quite simple. It was obvious that this was a room used for very special cases. There was a stone bed, a toilet and a little desk with a chair. I was surprised at the lack of security that surrounded me. It was not like I had important political information about the prisons here in Cuba! There were no windows here which made this room feel like a box. I was literally trapped in a box. I could hear nothing except my own breathing and it was all very boring. I needed something to happen but I suspected that it would take a time before something would happen. I wondered what they would do with me and Daniel, if the US would intervene or not. With the Cuban missile crises a few years back, the US did not want a real conflict with Cuba because that would mean that Russia would come in and claim war and that was what nobody wanted. My situation was not as easy one, as you can understand.

Some hour must have gone before something happened. The massive door opened and a man in uniform gestured angrily with a gun to me. I deduced he wanted me to move and I went outside, the light blinding me after staying so long in the dark. I was led to a room, with a window, a desk, two chairs on each side of it and some mysterious objects in one corner. Aha! An interrogation room! Now came to the part I feared. What did they really want from me and what was I supposed to tell them? What did they knew about me? I would soon find out.

They pushed me toward the chair and I sat down, a bit irritated about their rough manners. They seemed to wait for someone and the room was totally silent, a silence that was very awkward. A person came and sat down next to the men in uniform. There were two, one that had his face covered in scars and the other seemed very sympathetic with a round face and big eyes but the look he gave me would anyone think otherwise. The third man had a paler skin than the others and was moreover smiling to me. He seemed friendly He was the one who started talking first.

"Hello. I am the interpreter and I will translate everything you say. I suggest you cooperate with us otherwise, well, we might force you to talk. His smile which had been friendly was now uncomfortable and a bit disgusting. Is that understood?"

"Completely understood."

"Good. Shall we proceed?"

I looked him right in the eyes. "Yes."

"Good. So, our source found some papers which tell about some suspicious affairs you have been involved into. Do you want to tell us about it?" I wanted to punch his face, mainly because of that ugly grin.

"Who is your source?"

"That, I am afraid, is private. But we are the one who are telling the questions. So, please proceed."

The two options that I considered would sent me to prison anyhow. I had no way of defending myself against the charges, not on my own and in the absence of a lawyer. I highly doubted that the Cubans would provide me with a lawyer. If I resisted, torture would surely be my treat until I told anything. I wanted to wait, to found it if my home country would help me. Surely, they could not leave me here alone? To die in these prisons, knowing that I could have been rescued if only the American government would have raised their big asses from their comfortable chairs and actually done something brave!

They were waiting for me to answer and they grew more impatient by the minute, I could see it by the way their fingers were tapping the table. What could I say? What would save me from an irrevocable death?


	24. not a chapter

This is not a chapter and I am sorry to destroy your expectations. This story, I feel, I have not given it much thought and it troubles me, because I think I can do better than what it is. So I am going to leave it as it is, but I am going to adjust the story during these weeks to come and make it better and found out also what I want with it.

I am sort of going through a crisis in my life in relation to my writing and frankly, I am lost. So bear me with me, you will have an end to this story, I promise but it may take a while. Don't stand there and wait, but go on with your lives and one day, come back to it and maybe it will have changed. I can take a few weeks, it can take two months I don't know when. But when I know what I want to do with my life, I will tell you and you will have your story.

Thank you and sorry again if you thought that this was a chapter. It was unintentional.


End file.
